How Much Are The Movie At Silver City

HUHU!

Whence came "Huhu" what age he had, and what sex? He was manly. The age was indeterminate, between 50 and 70 Where he was from, did not Karl. Morning when the sun came up over the Kaiser mountains, he had run. All day he walked on the sidewalk in front of the nursing home where he lived, back and forth.
He used to give the passing cars characters. Some drivers slowed the speed irritated. The caretaker him sometimes stretched one. To get rid of garbage. For watering the lawn. For this he was praised. His vocabulary consisted of a handful of sounds. "Huhu" was his favorite sound. A geriatric nurse translated it: "Huhu" "? Fornication, which, Joseph fornication you are angry again,"
said Huhu
Karl turned from the window
He read two words together in his alphabet soup were today... it "pansy" and "vale of tears." The noodle letters came from a pack that had left the Elapsed. for how many months? "noodle letters ...", he mumbled, and the spoon clattered to the porcelain.
rising heat of the summer day.
Now he was sitting on the bike, up to the other city further up the valley. There lived the Elapsed and his small image, four years old. Stretchosen. The black shiny, wobbly buttocks of a cyclist in front of him. Harvest workers on the field of oppressive sun. He is halfway out of breath. He tears his clothes and jumps into the icy Ziller ...
For the remaining 30 kilometers, it takes the train. Excessive construction activity along the railway embankment.
Hall in the avenue.
Yes, the absurdly friendly street sweeper was there. He cleaned the alley, which was always perfectly clean. He made some signs. Today, he was eager to shake his hand. Karl she dug even deeper into his pockets. Past the loony bin. The inmates even had a miniature golf course. It was overgrown. Today, two were playing. One went suddenly with rapid steps to the hole, had struck the ball into the other, took him out, and stuffed it into his mouth. Then
swimming, with the small image, steel blue of the sky, the northern chain Sonnenglast. On the high, often winding slide. The heart of the little people drumming excitement. He has no fear. Father is there for. A fat guy who actually pulled the pants on the butt before he slipped. In order to gain speed. The image of the former lover returned. At dusk the train station, the youths in the small park. Glowing cigarettes. Cloud Tower and rain now. Rain line at the train window.
A cow trotting infinitely slow, on the most boring field of the world, through the rain to their tinny water trough. The yellow marks in both ears. He feels the yellow marks in his ears. He sees it in the ears of the man's left hand hygiene problem. He sees her face in the ears of the two giggling schoolgirls him.
home in his shop sees Karl out of the window. Huhu in the dark before the nursing home. Late suppliers. You do not know Huhu. Who threw himself in Herrenpose. They give out their rolling carts, Huhu pushes his "Huhu" show, and made paddling arm movements, which mean: "Hurry up, gemma, gemma work, faster. "
Suppliers pretend that they did not see him.
go quietly after their unloading, and Huhu, is an arrogant boss, here.
Huhu with hands on her hips.
The janitor comes.
"No, no, Joseph. That's fine. The've been doing this right. "
He takes him into it with him. An ambulance driving slowly. He is in no hurry. He transported a dead body. In front of the computer screen. "Bitchal91 has written back. You want to meet Charles. At the fortress, there was a concert tomorrow. Divine spark of joy. View outside. In the light cones of the lanterns, the rain drops. Tired to bed, just the news, a lightless clown is leaving the helm of the ship of state, the next is ready and a dream: Karl is the covered passage up fortress. It darkens, but all doors are open. Bullet holes in the wood. The last gate is closed. No tour, no "Bitchal91. Behind the gate sounds like work. Iron supports clink together. Then the loud "Hoe!" A worker, as if a second worker had not been paying attention. The moon lit up suddenly a giant. The zahnlückige, wrinkled head sits on a thick neck. It's a head like a tree trunk. It is "Huhu" and he cast stones down from the mountain, in the flow. High injected to the spray. The giant "Huhu" has yellow marks in the ears.

Fin

Accuracy Of Cybex Arc

The Greens in the delivery room

The Greens in Kreisaal

What was so funny in this thing? I do not remember the joke and is floating on the viewing angle. The fact that he finally threw up, was funny in my eyes, and that his wife be called anything, everything! The most intimate secrets, they gave up their rants. In the delivery room. The none is in the hospital of this city (one that would in the Woody Allen fall asleep in three minutes), but rather a sober space with many common corners. Or that he finally on the poor Muslim started, when he happened to see how this baby was talking about his religious incantations, rather it is the mother for the first time in the hand was, that was funny. Pfleger they separated. Anyway, he was a Green Party politician locally tailored to the situation not grown nervous. The abuse of his wife giving birth had probably contributed to theirs. Exactly how matters stand with them, once again documenting men's abuse of the woman giving birth is all about, well, I think, since breaking a deeper gender hatred that may be as natural as the love between the sexes. Whatever the case, at the ear-splitting, final cry of a woman, as the offspring of Green slipped, I had to laugh. Marscha, my wife was in delivery room 2, and we both looked at each other. The midwife was just off, and Marscha and said: "shudder. You'll find this funny? The make is not soundproof. These midwives like me: you heard what she said earlier in my labor, "
Yes. Not so loud. "
" So a cow, eh? "
" Well, come on. After all, she's your midwife. "
Yes. But her brutal face. "
Yes. She is not unattractive. She looks so brutal that it has almost pretty again. "
" I hope you're laughing at me. "
" No. Except you insult me. "
And she has it really been called all that before?" Marscha asked interested.
"When I come to tell you so. I could only hear muffled by the door outside. But it sounded like ass, and flat wanker, impotent pig. "
Marscha shook his head.
"When has said the midwife, when acts of labor resources?"
"In 30 minutes. Mind if I disappear for a cup of coffee? "
" No, no. Go home. "
" If it starts earlier. I got the phone. "
Marscha nodded.
I stood with my coffee cup at the entrance. It was earlier 2 clock, and a gentle breeze cooled my face. Suddenly dashed approached the patrol car. He stopped with screeching tires, and paramedics unloaded a stretcher, with the Green! He looked bad from trimmed. Where did he come from? Now I saw the blue lights above the circular movement of something new. Since there had been a Verkehrsumfall. Was that an overturned truck? Within a few seconds I was at the scene. A wheel was on the road. The truck was carrying kohlrabi, they were everywhere. A thick Turkish woman with colorful headscarf was calmly while to grab some cabbage in a plastic bag. A traffic warden told her kindly that it would not now.
A Gaffer said to another: "Yes. Any such crazy cyclist in the rain poncho. He cried something and suddenly drove in a serpentine line. If the truck driver would not have panned the tax, he would now be flat, "said
Another Gaffer". Yes. He is said to have shouted: I need a haircut. I need a haircut "
A third:" Probably drugs. Only drug addicts lead so on. "
I grinned and sprinted back because important imminent.
Before the delivery room were one, two nurses. One just said, not without a touch of guilt in his voice: "... a few injuries. The truck driver nothing happened. And I tell him yet, he should first ride home, and sleep. His wife was also for it. "
" What he has called his wife once everything? "
" bastard, wanker flat, codger. Impotent pig. "
" impotent pig? Arg ", the other
said" Yes-arg ", concluded the first.
I laughed, I summarized the sisters nodded seriously, and went into the delivery room number two.

Must Give Birth Games

on thin ice

I had drunk at Laura in Kufstein. Two bottles of white men. As one of her conditions was that I should not rush my sleep with her, I had started late. For years I lived in Pampa, beweibt first, then 3 years alone, about 7 kilometers from the city. In a V-valley, where a small stream gurgled near the bottom. I pulled the Zipper of my fur-lined leather jacket later, shivering and walked through the city. My options were: to go through in one of the restaurants open up in the morning, had to cycle or go home. I hoisted myself on my bike as I pedaled, I knew, however: that was me today too difficult. To me it was in the Pampa continuously upward. In addition, it was cold and I had flip side. I climbed down again. Should I immediately get a hat full of sleep? In a staircase, on a wooden bench covered with plastic sheets which I could draw on a body shop? I could sleep on the musty, but get recently cleared out the attic of the pink house, which for hundreds of years the town hall opposite the mountain fortress stand.Wunderbarerweise stood there, under the powerful beams a lonely, old easy chair in which I enthroned many times are hatte.Ich remained, shaking his head. kip No, was not an option. There was much energy in me, and I wanted to hunt down the chimney before I "got canceled. I took the road to Lucky Bar, where I locked the wheel off. Refreshed by oxygen and cold, I tucked myself behind the bar, drank to babbles barmaid full, and got the shooting arrows against them in no time at all coal. That was stupid. With heavy legs I trudged up the stairs to the front door, determined to make the wheel of his bike, and to take a taxi. In my room were still some crushed. I wanted to get, then back to the taxi ...
prevailed before the door, such a cold place that I hit at random, the next house doorknob. Lo and behold, the door swung back to expectations. I found myself in a warm staircase. I strode up the stairs until I was faced with the tinny, closed door of the attic, and lay down on the large front door mat. An indeterminate time later, I woke up, slept fairly well, but strong enough to make it to the taxi stand. I gave me a jolt, thundered down the stairs, and saw a 15-16-year old girl that I used the hallway. She's asleep outside a door on the mat, wearing black stilettos bulging tight jeans, plus a white T-shirt that had slipped up over half of the back. Black hair fell in thick strands of the mat and in a pale, not ugly face. The end of her ass cleft was visible, and about a tattoo, a sun sign emblazoned representing, and four of which extend away lizards. I stared back, and the tattoo began as a mandala to affect me. I would almost passed out. It took a moment before I had eyes, including the young, white flesh. I took a step closer. Her face wore the expression fixed Sleep. Her boobs were big, the nipples pierced through the fabric of bra and T-shirt. Probably because of the coolness, because she was dressed too light for this time of year. Now she moaned bright and moving.
"Tell me once-you not cold?" I asked. She nodded without opening his eyes.
"That's" angle, I whispered and asked: "Do you want my jacket"
She nodded quietly with closed eyes, they had very long, silky eyelashes.
"Would you sleep in a bed? In a soft bed? "
Another nod. It had to be, here is a soothing trance state, a peaceful drug or alcohol half asleep. My voice seemed in any event, pleasant, and it looked like she was under my spell! - All this without hypnosis tricks! I just had to stay confident, I felt. With a firm voice I said: 'Come on, you can sleep with me in bed. Since it is warm and cozy. It is not far from here. "
She nodded. I took her hand, she opened her eyes and a dreamy look of confidence hit me-as if they knew me all along. I put my thick jacket around her shoulders and she could be without will lead to the front door. For a moment, unspeakable lust rose in me. The cold that struck against us at the door she choked again.
We take a taxi, "said I mouth with smoking.
"Where?"
"to me. To bed. Since it is warm. "
It was daylight when we were a short walk from the taxi. The driver jumped out and opened the sliding door before coming. My beautiful trance girl had already lodged a stiletto reinforced foot for boarding when she asked: "Where's my room key '
It dawned on me that I had gleaned from her own apartment and said:" The find we have, honey. Come on, you have to go to bed. Since it is warm. "
She nodded, very good girl, and got inside. The taxi driver smiled. Why, I was unclear. He could not imagine any event that I have a me completely foreign sleepwalker had picked up. After 15 minutes of rapid and very twisty ride uphill forever, we were standing in front of the apartment house in the boonies. I lived in the attic.
"One moment. I'll get money. they watch it on. "
" Do I, "laughed the taxi driver.
I hurried up the stairs, and paid from the back seat, over the lap of beauty. I helped her get off.
"Where's my keys?"
"We find it. Into it, the door is open. "
" Where's my key. Where am I? I want to go home. "
The situation threatened to tip over.
"Listen, sweetheart," I said with good doses of emphasis. "You are you allowed to sleep with me, as agreed upon. Or with you. "
The taxi driver's attention.
"Where's my keys?"
"With me. We will find him. Look, the door is open. Go in there, all the stairs! The apartment door is open. "
When she sat her ass in motion, with uncertain step to the front door stöckelte, and it disappeared, I was overcome with fierce triumph. Now could not go much wrong. It was mine. I nodded to the taxi driver to leave. The car roared away. Slowly, almost casually, I strolled up the stairs, past the doors of neighbors: people of abgezirkeltem, controlled lifestyle. Brave people, boring People. Zero finders.
I entered the apartment, and completed. Caught. Now the sweet trance girl was trapped. Unspeakable lust rose in me. I was shaking and drooling a little ...
presented Amused, I realize that the pretty instinctively had found their way into the living room, and the two with red stretch sheet-related spring mattresses. Stomach, was dropped as her as she lay on blankets and cushions. Under the hem of her T-shirt hiked the dark mandala is painted on the white skin, and the buttocks twinkling among the plump tight jeans to me.
"Just" do not rush, I whispered, turning the heater more and pulled me out naked. Slowly, somewhat like a stork, scratching me with nuts and laughing faun walked, I was in the kitchen. There, I covered the opened bottle of vodka from the previous day, Brand Yeltsin. I had yesterday approved some good sip of it before I had stopped by the wine at Laura. For good reason, because she had said: "I am happy. You look over anyway at the right moment, but do me a favor. "
" who would? "
" No booze. For me, no liquor is drunk. "
I placed myself, the vodka bottle in hand, in the doorway of the living room, casting a greedy eye on the horny beast that needed to be succumbed to. Then I looked in my step: My Dong had become hard.
I did a sip from the bottle, and danced with light, playful steps into the bathroom, just like a striker who hesitates before the empty goal of the opponent, rather he einlocht. "Relax, do not do it, if you wonna come ...«, I sang and clapped me happily on the bare thigh. In the bathroom was the ghetto booster, which had given me an ex-girlfriend to my thirties. I chose a classical music station. They played some of Felix Mendelssohn-Bartholdy. I turned on the shower, and then I stood together under the refreshing spray bottle. I sang, moving his hips to the rhythm of the music, I foaming us the ball, took sips, and was me of life. Freshly showered and cleaned up, the booster in the left, the Yeltsin in the right, the power cable as a devil tail grind, I hopped back into the living room. The trance girl lay there in Spoons. The hands are kept folded in the crotch. I casually said, "I listen to music to fall asleep, which does not bother you but"
She shook, her eyes shut tight, his head?.
plug in, press down, Wagner's overture to Tristan and Isolde sounded. I lay down beside her. I put my teeth in her hair and sniffed. It smelled a bit strict, but it smelled. I smelled her hair I smelled her neck. When she my hot Breath, pulled it gave a purring sound. I put my teeth deep into her dark hair waves, and inhaled. My hand trembled as I took a swig from the bottle.
"Quiet, quiet, you get it," I whispered.
As a lizard I snuggled me of her. I put one of my arms gently on her hip, and what can I say, she took my hand between her warm hands, and pressed it gently, as if we were a couple.
I felt flattered. At the same time I was allowed through this intimate act that can not be trusted tenderness dupe, be unfaithful to my hunting and game-related thoughts to sleep, and. One moment The temptation was great. I was a jerk, and pulled my finger slowly from the sweet clip out of their hands.
I fumbled at the zipper of her jeans, gently, gently, he pulled out a piece. She took my hand between hers again. I let it happen, but I kept hold the end of the zipper between the thumb and index finger. Slowly, tooth for tooth, he opened and he was open. I freed my hand and pulled her jeans with a firm tug, along with panties on their magnificent white rump down and shone in his step, a Black Bush. It was a sound of discontent, and I quickly pulled a blanket over the part the plump ass, so they do not felt the chill.
this, I put my hand on her hip again, they took prompt. But now their most holy lay naked and helpless before me.
I laid on my back and stretched after Yeltsin. A swallow while lying down, I drooled a little on my naked chest, no matter. Bottle away cuddled to my sleep-walker. I pulled the blanket back something taken from her buttocks and almost agonizing lust I muttered: "Gracious, what a basic ass"
No pimples marred the white double glory. A safe feeling told me now, fuck that was now a foregone conclusion. I sipped on Yeltsin, and slid a half Meters deep, to take her column in appearances. I turned the hair of her jet-black fleece something back, and there was the strange, pink pieces that would never have thought that there would still be eyed by me ... if it had had a brain. Since they were
, pink warm and prickly, the interesting winding labia. I held out as a gay man drinking beer, from my little finger, and into the cave. Just the tip. Then I fingered her. But gently and only with the tip of the little finger. My Trance Girl grunted satisfied and pushed at the same time in a half-bashful move my hand from her step. But without great stress. My hand crept cheeky researchers again on their part, and as I fingered this time, she wetted considerably. Small droplets glittering in the web. I stuck her middle finger into the vagina, moving him into her, and felt the juice increased. She moaned occasionally, but the deep breaths of a solid sleep prevailed. I tried two fingers, I tried three or four fingers, and then it was my finger instead of the Harter their part. Light and he had slipped unnoticed into it with relish when I closed my eyes. I came immediately. satisfied in this naughty way, I wanted to fall to the eyes, because outside it was already daylight. But I still had enough sense to dry my shorts with her pace, and pants and panties with a gentle tug to pull back on her ass. I absolutely dog away before I could close her zipper. My sleep was short. A bright, hysterical over the playing voice woke me.
"No. What is going on here, where am I, I need a Dschig saw. "
In the twinkling lashes I Outwitted out in the living room-and-forth race.
"Where am I? Where is Kufstein, it is clear in this direction? "
" No, there is the Hohe Salve. "
" I did need a Dschig. "
you suddenly stopped and, by the hand to the zipper. It closed. Put the wrong head listened to himself. A dangerous moment.
"I need a "Dschig she repeated, her dark eyes and saw me now almost pleadingly.
I have unfortunately no cigarettes. "
" but tobacco, rolling tobacco you've got? "
" No. Bin Non smoking. "
She pushed on the inside of her thigh along, as if the pants do not sit right. Again she listened. I held my breath. Then it burst from her: "I have to jet, I stop go, where is Kufstein, it was far away," I
before it as if it is not quite still in his senses, as a glowing alcohol and perhaps an unknown drug? according to her.
»Kufstein is there. Go to work towards. As you can see the road . See "
She disappeared and I began to dress me.
I ask she heard from over there, "Is that it? Is this the road? With the many curves? "
" Yes, but no stress. I am using nozzle. I need to get my bike. A jacket you'll get even. It is freezing cold. "I unbuttoned my pants too, looking up and I looked her straight in the face in which were neither hatred nor reproach. She had nothing. I wondered who they held me in her trance.
"Where's my keys?"
"You've already found him yesterday not you remember?"
"No. But, yes. Which I have in my jacket. And hanging in the restaurant. In the Lucky Bar. I need to Kufstein, to my child. "
" You have a child? "
" I need a Dschig. Is this the door? What's that? "
She had opened the door to the storeroom. In addition to the junk hung a curiosity: a dirndl from the early days of my ex-girlfriend.
"Whose is this children's dirndl?" She asked, and from under the velvety lashes hit me a horrified look.
for long explanations, I was not in place, so I said. "To my last murder victim"
She stared at me.
"fun. I have to pull when I cum. "
you took a step back.
"Was the second of fun."
"I need to Kufstein. I need a Dschig. My key is gone, I have no money. How did we get here? Is this the door? She's locked. "
" Wait, I lock on. Here you have a jacket, it is freezing cold. "
I went into my jacket, locked up, and already they clattered down the stairs. I sat by her. Outside the front door, she struck the wrong direction. "This way," I called and they followed me. After 200 meters on the narrow access road, it was cold, our mouths were smoking. She suddenly asked me: "Why do you actually go with"
"I said. I got my bike in Kufstein. And I want my jacket back. "
She was already somewhere else, and accelerated its course. "Hey, why you walk like that?" I must be about my child, what time is it? "Nine."
"Shit. I wanted to start at home yesterday. I need a Dschig. "
" fit for who on the child? Your type? "
" Have no types'm single. "
" And the father? "
" Is an asshole. All types are assholes. "
" Aha, "I said, and joined her on.
"But you can not always make it myself yet," I suggested.
"But can"-man, she said firmly. We arrived at the road, and traipsed out to a stretched Thumb along the roadside.
"Go here, so always a few cars?"
"No. Today is Sunday. "
A rusty small car overtook us, and gave a little late so as if the only driver to check our faces in the rearview mirror. We ran to the car. A very young, pretty helpless woman came to the door from the inside.
"Hello," she said, and gave me a smile.
"Hey, that's nice of you to keep-just like that."
The young thing at the wheel was about to say something, but it bit back.
I want to sit "behind", called the trance girl.
you push himself past me on the back seat, I concluded the door and we were off.
"Did you perhaps a Dschig for me?" She asked. The helpless woman was pretty.
Reich you her "the box back, they said, and as a knowing smile was on her lips. I did as commanded. "Thank you. The I need now. I fire myself. "
flicked a lighter.
"Ah, ah yes ... that feels good."
"Do not you like me anymore?" Asked me now the helpless. My reaction surprised and flattered.
"Should I?" I looked at their profile, which I wanted to look familiar.
But I felt too well juiced and warm vodka to combine great.
"Help me" on the jumps, I said, and checked the rearview mirror. About the Unlisted sat there quietly, and drew with stupid satisfaction in their Lulle.
"I did last spring on the road this Amnesty ..."
"Ah, now I know again. Maria! The young activist. The Death Metal concert. "
She had contacted me in advertising design, I had turned the tables, and invited them for a beer. The second beer, she had decided to end their day early. Then she was switched to white Auer. I had noticed her rapid drinking. The speech came at a concert in Wörgl and suddenly I was sitting in her car, a can of beer in hand, they one between the legs. She was driven rapidly, openly drinking their beer constantly, cursing at the cops. At the concert I had closed their ears, and she had heimgekarrt me. She had told me some stories sexual content, and something about her friend who stank, had been not to move but to stay the night.
"Did you not then another car?" I asked.
Yes. Imagine that you have stolen me. "
" What? "
Yes. I left it open. It has been fished later from the Inn. "
" Yes, that is the world. Everyone steals from everyone. The law of the jungle. How's your friend? "
"Oh, that asshole," she said just to ask a moment later: "Where shall I Request by e you? I have it in a hurry, you know? "
" On Sunday? "
Yes. . Work in the nursing home "
over the shoulder, I asked:"?. Where you have to actually down, "
" The Lucky Bar "
" There was where I picked up "
" Where was the "" over the hallway? . '' Yes. Since I live. "
" But you have no key. "
" The caretaker will unlock me. "
" That is fortunate. My bike is there, too. For the Lucky Bar, so. Is that possible? "
" Sure. "Maria nodded. ?
"Is your child at home," I asked over his shoulder, and, "What is your name really"
"Lerna?. No. I leave my child alone but it is ... but what am I talking about? I know you not. "
" Better than you think, "I mumble, and smiled grimly to myself. Maria famd the amusing, she asked: "What do you not know? You do have ... "
" She stayed with me because she was out of her apartment, "I said quickly.
Maria was at the curb, I got worked, the seat forward, and Lerna went her way, no thanks to Maria, without having to turn, and in my Jacket.
"Thanks for the ride," I cried, slammed the car door and began to Lerna.
At the door I reached them.
"Hey, Lerna."
"What?" She asked indignantly.
"My jacket."
"Oh, yes." She pulled it out and threw it to my chest.
Oh, and Lerna? "
" What else? My phone number you do not get "ask
I had not intended - well, I asked though:".? Why not "
" You're not my type, and now bye "
She was the front door in, and I did. they open.
"Lerna,"
"God, you're annoying, because what yet? "
" Are you taking the pill really? "
" For what? In me is for a very long tail no more. "
" Oh, yes! "I slapped my forehead. "I could forget. All types are assholes, right? "
" You got it, old age would have. "
Lerna up the stairs, yet so easily I would not let it get away. I held her by the arm, and said, "But you know, Lerna. You can not always make it yourself,"
"Yes" can, man, she snapped, tore himself away, and stumbled up the stairs.

end

What Is A Shallow Pan To Cook

art expedition

princes drunk, but in high spirits, and filled with oriental eloquence, I was - as sometimes in those years, in broad daylight stroll through Kufstein, when I came across Clarabelle.
Clarabelle connected me with an experience: when she was in Schwoich, in the farmhouse her parents had lived, I GEDU by open after a night at the crack of dawn 'by moped to her. I had awakened her. Sleepy face, she had opened.
too quiet with the condition are, we had breakfast in the kitchen, my coffee, beer was, and then set off at sunrise for a walk during which I talked and talked, and hinlocken they wanted somewhere where we could do it can.
Across a field growing up, I had pointed forward and said:. "Let us go up to those blackberry bushes over there,"
Since then she somehow sinister. She had me for a second looked at in silence, and turned around on the spot.
I still think back a few years, I see myself with her sitting at a table in a restaurant with an Asian woman.
I the book Factotum by Charles Bukowski did it, and for them exclusively ripped out the page, where the hero on the yacht a grumpy old man playing cards with him, secretly-obvious way is driving with his two present playmates.
Any comment on the servility of the Asian Clarabelle might have misunderstood it, because suddenly they got the first carefully in the breast pocket of her blouse kept leaf out literature, and it turns me on how armor-clad mother, the powerful blows his nose as cheap their child's face.
Clarabelle was a few inches larger than my Einsvierundachzig, and strongly built, I should say. But
back: I met Clarabelle, and we quickly decided to put coffee PLATZL.
was first there, for a coffee. The conversation was good, however, and the third beer we were still sitting at the table. Clarabelle suddenly pulled out a brochure on an art expedition was announced on the mountain beast. As to a crossroads, so had an artist instead of the Stations of the Prophet, the Inn Neuhaus starting through the woods, up along the way to the ruins, installed art installations. The aim was to wander through.
Clarabelle commented that the whole thing start today in the afternoon, they meet up with someone while now, but I could join her. With the car of her friend-he is incidentally a poet-it would be up to the inn. I thanked him like I said would come with you and ended with a look out into the drizzle had now entered, "I hope not they are art installations in water"
found Clarabelle's not funny, and I turned the conversation. again in an non railways. With Sepp
the poet, we met on a coffee: he called me immediately Southerners, because I have a blue work jacket was a deep-drawn sign in the front cover, and I allowed myself to call him a poet. In fact, he looked like a struggling writer in 1800: about 35, his face plowed by a million useless idea to, in strange contrast, the head of golden curls heavy.
The poet and I joked over and over, and Clarabelle few times laughed uproariously. The rain had increased, as we buzzed the poet in the old car up the steep, winding asphalt road to the inn upstairs. We were not the first, a small Little people had already gathered under a tent next to the guest house, you draw beer, there were hot sausages. We mingled with the art lovers, and after some initial and perhaps enlightening imaginary words of the young artist (she was rather small, compact body and her blunt nose adorned glasses, which awarded her with the short hair, a boyish appearance) was the procession in raincoats and armed with umbrellas in motion.
What was seen at the various stations in detail, because I can not remember, only this: there are things made of tin and plastic were about blasphemous images were not lacking, orange-colored gravel was too sudden our feet, and eventually we came to the ruins.
boiling hot wax, where in some pots, and we were interested in art to dip into what we liked, so it could be made with a layer of hesitation, and as a reminder of this day with home.
I drank the last beer can, which I felt the way up have been a faithful companion, and gave them to watch a young cook, so they would put it on the dip bar and fondue. The
defended himself. A can of beer did they imagine how shallow. She said, "So that, I think does not work. There remains liable even the wax. "
" Try it, girl, "I rang, and my beer flag brushed her beautiful Lärvchen that screwed up in disgust.
"No. I can not do that. "
" Yes, now here is the more progressive, or not? An upside nailed Jesus, with orange eggs, that's what, to dip but not a beer can? "
" Where an upside nailed Jesus? "Asked the assistant art girls in horror.
"with orange balls, after I joined!
"nonsense. Such an installation is not there. "
" Who knows, miss, but wait! If do not like to dip beer can, then maybe, "and I crumpled the can in my hand, "Then maybe a crumpled beer can, worthy enough for the wax?"
The poor thing is afraid of me now.
I probably would, as a discordant note down dressed in the beautiful melody of this procession, she scolded one Kunstbanausin etc., if not Clarabelle had suddenly stood beside me, tall, 15 pounds heavier than I am strong.
your brown eyes measured me calm when she said: "Well, Karl, problems"
In great joy I said: No ". No problems, Clarabelle. Let's sit down for a beer afterwards to Neuhaus? "
Yes. Sepp and I had this before. You want it again for us Kufstein go, right? "Clarabelle said warily.
said "Oh, that would be beautiful," and I:.? "I'll go ahead once already,"
"Where"
"Well, in Neuhaus," I said firmly and walked down the already moist forest.
sat in the restaurant I was not alone for long in the beer, now that wobbled, which was after the experience of art, even for companionship, a. Klara Bella's brother was there, the artist herself, and next to the poet, two, three. We were discussing anything and everything, and nothing exhaustive.
We spared the barley juice not, and the poet in the cart it went back down to Kufstein. Clarabelle let me in her living room to sleep while Sepp and they went into the bedroom. Before long, Clarabelle began to moan, the poet took the measure! Since I do not after that was to become an ear-witness copulation, I got up and drank more in Lucky's, the bar, which had opened at this time yet.
The only guest was a rauschebärtiger Wochenendalki in work clothes, which I did not understand me sick.
When the bar closed, it was bright outside, we already giggling and shuffling blödelnd, to the nearest gas station, and again with a can of beer into town. We landed in the station restaurant. The waitress with the short-cropped hair and the smooth, tight calves served.
"takes your you ere well, "she said warningly, as she served the beer.
We nodded.
"Where are you actually working?" I asked the beard. ..
"Am writers'
I mean, because you're wearing a blue and work shoes"
"That no work shoes," I said one leg on the table legend, and setteth added. "God, the stink"
I took off his shoe and smelled it.
"Wow! This stink. As manure, "I cried enthusiastically.
The beard was curious.
"May I smell too?"
"Because it is you," I said, handing him the boot. He inhaled deeply
.. Then laughed he said, "You call that smell"
He immediately took off one of his work shoes, held it like an oxygen mask in his face, inhaled long and then put it on the table?.
& D call as I stink, "he said. And? "Smell"
"You know what," I replied, "I believe you also that," The Very used
work shoe, with its strangely draped laces, made good on the table.. He stood there as if to mean something.
The waitress suddenly appeared before us.
"What's that? You told her you will g 'failure to, "
" What to do? This is art! "I cried.
"nonsense. Get rid of the shoe. "
" This is not a shoe, "I desired to," this is a ready-made. "
" A what? pay now though, and you had helped out with. "

end

Nausea With Soapy Taste In Mouth

no chance against Jesus

Since Jo at that porn movie, he seemed to have lost all touch with reality. He believed that life is also a porn film, interspersed with long lengths. He was living with Clara in the basement of a dilapidated house. One day I wanted to visit him, which means I do it. But outside the kitchen window roar I heard Jo.

He yelled, "Sauf my piss! Drink my piss! Drink my piss, you buckle, "

Hing such as the house blessing wrong? I peeped through the crack in the curtain and saw her sitting at the kitchen table Klara. She turned bored in a newspaper. Jo stood before her. He wore a undershirt. Otherwise, he was naked. His cock dangled in front of Clare's face.

"Oh, come on Jo. Go easy into the crapper and you upgrade to a shudder. "

" Drink my PISS! Shouted Jo, so loud. I jumped. Clare looked up from her magazine.

Jo. You're not a rock star. You are a small number. Go to the shithouse and squeeze your sausages. But let me out. "

Jo slammed her one that she fell off the chair, but she succeeded in falling to give him one in the nuts.

had the ineffable experience of pain Jo slump and cry.

Jo I decided to visit another time and boarded the next Bartussi The bar was barely 25, had a drogenzerfurchtes face and pulled the trigger. Between the toes, so that the grooves did not see how I did. But it served me promptly and I was way regardless.

behind my beer I thought about Jo, and how Jo only through the participation in a porn film in which he had been only one among many, and which you could only see his hairy legs rattling his hand and his, Squirting pissing bell, it was losing grip. Klara (which knew nothing of the matter) was regrettable. To date, she had Jo well under control, but now he turned slowly by. And how harmless it all started. Jo and I had watched a porn called Pissfotzen. He could also mean monsterfotzen, for the girls was sucked with a vacuum device, the blood in clitoris and labia, so they were big as apple halves. The girls were with their bright red apple halves on a rubber base, and hairy men's legs were around them. The types masturbated, and then injected, one after another into the girls face. Thereafter, they were pissed, mostly in the face and mouth. Sometimes they were allowed to sip the cold then piss on the rubber mat. Most of the girls brought a grin behind. Others strangled.

Before the statue was one of the legs disappeared on the rubber surface lying entirely nassgepissten leading ladies, whose face under a veil of semen was formally, then suddenly appears that text that Jo should never have read.

YOU ALSO COME AND JOIN U.S.!

YOUR FACE IS NOT SHOWN

OUR GIRLS eagerly await

ON YOUR TAIL, AND YOUR PISS

YOUR SPERM.

GO! PISS AND SPRAY OUR MÄDLER

THEIR FACES, pussy and ass CRATER

REALLY FULL! ALSO OF COURSE Do you get

YOUR FAT TAIL TRIM FULLY SUCKS!

FREE. CALL TO UNDER ...

That was a month ago, and Jo had struck. It was after Munich went where this company was based. Excited and was changed to a difficult to explain way he returned.

All this I went to the bar through the head until one distracted me for about 16 year old girl. She was exceptionally nice and told Linda as it turned out. I flirted with her, but soon found that I would have with her against Jesus never had a chance. That Jesus was said to be a friend of the wine-skin, she did not want to admit, and not that much said that he had gone voluntarily into the hands of his enemies, sacrificed himself because he did not want any trouble. A la: "Take me, but my fans let alone."

"If he had been betrayed, he had not sacrificed so, no?" I said, when my phone rang.

"Hey, Karl. Where are you? "

Oh, Jo. Yes. I have been with you. But you had just armed, and I thought, I come another time, "

Oh. Yes, yes. The ... Will you come for? "

" No. I have now quite a beauty before me, which I reluctantly let alone. "

" clear all. But you're missing something. "

a moment I had the suspicion Jo wanted to invite me to a Pissesession with Clare, but quite so thick it did not.

"What I miss, Jo?"

"I prefer this to me just purely sex."

"with Clara?"

"No, the moment and is being bitchy about their mother down. "

" I understand. "

" What do you mean? "

" It was just so said that. So, what I miss? A Pissporno? "

" No. One can join. But that is harder, oh man Man "

" hardener? Jo, you know, I did the last time have not. Going to Munich for foreign women to pee in the face is not necessarily mine. "

" You said, you could imagine doing that. "

Yes. But I do not therefore trip to Munich. "

" This porn is wrong. This time it's about shitting, Klara. The guys killed shit shit everywhere. Take it anywhere. "

" Even in the face? "

Yes. With him. On the boobs, the belly face. In the pussy. "

" Oh, how charming. "

" Will you join us? "

" No, Jo. The whole thing is too cold, too ... sterile. "

" Haha. That was good. Too sterile. Do you really not? I cry now as namely. "

" No, Jo. Thanks for the offer. "

" You know, I would go up. Munich is not far. You'd need to do nothing more than ... "

" Some hours before, what decent food, I know. "

"So if you want. Too bad. I cry because now at least. See you later. "

Yes. Chau. "

The exquisitely beautiful, sixteen year old Christian, was at its most holy place still smelled certainly no type grinned at me angelic. She had no idea what it was gone at the interview.

"That was Jo. A religious fanatic. Wanted me to come to Lourdes, "I said.

you thought highly of Lourdes.Wir talked a little about Marian apparitions, the Ascension, the Resurrection and other Hirnverdreher, deep in the her sweet little head nested, then I took my leave. Jesus is simply too overwhelming competition.

A few weeks later I looked, as previously agreed, by Jo at him to pick up a beer.

This time I was at least up to the apartment door.

My hand, however, remained above the bell, when I heard Clara's voice.

"YES YOU EAT! EAT MY SHIT! EAT MY SHIT OFF THE NAPF! YES. THIS MAY BE THE mommy! SO NOW GIVE paw! Good dog. Good dog. "

I made on his heel and walked into that bar a beer. Shaking his head, I took the first sip. Clare and Jo seemed now to have come both to the taste.

The next moment came my pretty young Christian in at the bar. In some circles of teenagers, as I saw it. She wanted to sit with them on a table, recognized me and headed for me.

"Hi, Linda. Are those your classmates? "

" No. We are in the Catholic youth. How are you, Karl? "

" Good. Sit on it on a glass. "

" one. Then I have to my friends. Wait, I just tell them short notice. "

you did, and then they sat chatting next to me.

I was kind of proud of them lost. I mean on her pretty appearance. It got up. It made me glad. I could stand a little book out of his back pocket of her tight jeans. When asked about this they took out there.

They were selected Goethe poems. A "like me" very well, "she said and read it.

"I also know one," I replied and said in the poem describes the poet laureate of the marriage, and openly admits:

AND YOUR CROSSES JAMMER CHRISTENING

ENERGIZES of the ISTH. "

" What do Isthe? "Asked Linda.

" bell. Goethe says, in view of his beautiful bride the groom got a hard on, or semi-rigid. In the church. At the altar. Directly below the crucifix. . Wait, I pee a minute, "

on toilet, I had to have been feeling a little too far, and laid ready for me the following words of explanation for Linda:

" All who are concerned with Jesus, it can actually not praise or condemn. Because no one wrote about him, or writes, had ever seen or heard. This is all second-and third-hand. He did not write anything. We know nothing authentic about him. Each of the fault with him or praise, praise or fault with him even then, but not authentic zusammenspintisierte each construct in the minds of the individual fans or Jesus criticaster starting with the evangelists, who have seen it and never heard. For a guy, of which there are not authentic, you can say anything. Or just everything! The importance of setting his delusional fans as it covers a crust. No one, however, tasted, or ever saw the whole range of the puff. "

But it was different. Before the Toilet door stepping, to get a drink thrown in his face and cut down the cowardly assassin one: that was one.

The cowardly assassin was Linda! She ducked and scurried away to their faith made friends.

That was a stupid thing. But she could not be undone. I stood at the bar, drank my beer, expecting at any moment, her friends would take me. Unlike Jesus, I would have resisted. But nothing happened. I ordered a beer.

The Drogenzerfurchte said pop "types, the girl was getting to me no more beer"

.

"Would you say it, I popped it out of the blue one?"

"types, the girls pop one, get a beer," she repeated the same machines.

"It was a reflex. In the glass which otherwise might have been. I saw too late that it was Linda. "

" types, the girls pop one, get a beer here. "

I was glad to get into the cool Nachluft.

stood in terms of logic, this salad Barlady any young Christian.

"types, the girls get a pop here ! No beer, yes, "I cried," And Jesus ascended into heaven, visibly, and with vulture wings behind it. Lick me but all her ass brained bimbos. "

rang the phone. Jo was in it.

"Ah, Jo."

"You wanted me to pick up but, yes, Karl."

. " Actually, yes. But you are not being attended to, today? "

" What do you mean? "

" Well just now sounded as if you had Karlas Aa fed. "

a while there was the silence of the universe in the line.

Then Jo said: "Just smell it. And touched with the tip of the tongue. But they can pee now! Cool, eh? She has finally ausgezickt. Our sex life has been given new impetus. Is not that beautiful? But we should not discuss a beer? "

" Yes, Jo, the we can do. "

end