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The times I sang too JASE OF YOU ON

The times I sang too JASE OF YOU ON I do not know what got into me but I knew I could put myself where I was able to stop bad bad I articulate all the syllables as super well with vibrato in his voice too bad I do not know the tune that m'émeuvait it suddenly reminded me of the time when I was younger I sang worse than super fine without false notes nostrils dilated like before moulting worse all my friends asked me to do the back vocals worse third worse straights when we chill in a basement too bad that Max took the guitar worse than he was so focused he drooled over the strings as he left trickling drools so much he forgot to swallow it was concentrated to correct Pogner agreements worse I was doing the dishes this time worse suddenly I began to sing loudly articulating worse I remembered all the words of bad intonation worse any worse I started right after that try you for making a crossword worse every time you asked me what is a lake in Tasmania seven letters I turned to you worse I dilated nostrils singing my heart but you know we still love you we just want it not too bad you sometimes mistaken at first you thought it was funny to some degree as I did the dishes too bad you could not really FAQUE whining FAQUE you put up with me but I do not know what came over me I could stop I cleaned all the stock in the cupboards I could have been worse I sang the chorus looped back by the voice, squinting so I was in too bad you sighing, biting your pencil worse at one point I walked up behind you silently worse I yelled in your ear so c'qu'est tremolo looks now to the little guy c't'à side believing that his parents have bad manners bad you did as a kind of squeaking as you've had a spasm worse as an involuntary movement with your pencil from behind the worse I have avoided correctness by saying, therefore, see fucking crazy you got me almost dying a look too bad I left the room humming the Kain instead worse as I slipped two or three sentences THE TRIBE OF DANA worse I felt fitait it in harmony.

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Mathilde last (XI) - Even Victor

Victor descended from the first floor because the music had suddenly stopped. He came down quickly by linking his belt, belly, his slender body, his torso with a small arrow of hair between the breasts. It was not scary, but he was home, he had a responsibility. He did not care that you drink a beer or liquor bottles snatched from the minibar, but he still had a responsibility to the objects and furniture and sinks that do not belong to him.

*

He was forced to call his father, the police had forced him to call his father in the middle of the night. The police were called to a disturbance call at night and it fell just right because we came to realize that the third guy had just begun to demolish the battery Victor.

The guy had managed to smash the bass drum using his steel cap. The guy was trying to break the high-hat hitting it with two cymbals that were worth at least a hundred dollars each. It was obviously a lot of noise, all that copper metal crashing, it was a strange noise, they associated it with Victor, but had nothing to do with him.

At that time the police appeared and it was their action, they calmed the Thurs They boarded three guys while we, we as a crowd watched impassively, standing against each other tightly, and friends of friends who feel a little guilty, as if it was their fault or what. ;

Victor came back with a bang, out of breath, he went off the water in the basement and had a wire spider web hanging from her hair in front, near the ear. It was always shirtless and police asked him, as if by chance, if it was at home here. He said yes, he lived here with his mother. And where was his mother? His mother was in hospital undergoing a chemo treatment that extended over a week. The officer who received this response seemed to weigh more information in his head, like do I have to apologize or do I have to preach more to organize evenings of debauchery while his mother is dying of cancer? He seemed troubled, his gun in place on his hip and his bullet-resistant vest blue night.

He asked Victor, who he could call it, is what his father could be reached? Why my father, what is the relation of my father? Because I need a parental authority, a form authority, parental or otherwise, I can not leave without a parental authority, that authority be prevented there was mayhem and an arrest at the scene. Victor seemed really discouraged. Everyone was silent and I wondered if it was free or if there was a prisoner. I got my answer when a girl stood a couch and headed for the door with the intention of returning home. The second officer stepped in and politely ordered to return to his seat. Nobody goes away before the father of this young man has been warned. And if it decides to come, no one leaves before he arrived. We will note the names and contact information for everyone. They took out notepads and began to tour.

The officer who spoke over a cellular tended to Victor. Mathilde yawned and I realized the corner of his eye and it reassured me and offended at a time. I felt completely in the field to be as nervous as I was. I was tempted to be angry and say bad if it happened to you? But it could never happen in Matilda. The only parties that have ever held all summarized in phrases like can you turn down the sound, it means more talk .

And Victor was forced to call Charles, his father, almost four in the morning, telling him that police were at home (Which house? mom's house.) and three had bloody idiots mess (What mess? What idiots? A fucking mess, the estis of idiots that I know not even that) and that the police demanded that he be informed and ideally it comes down right away to see the damage and to ensure that everything was in order (what order, what police officers, what damage what?). Victor was making faces in the phone. He hated the situation because it was a situation that prevented him from hating his father, which prevented it be higher. He grinned into the phone and there was a silence so intense in the room you could hear the voice sleepy and completely lost to Charles.

Victor hung up and the officer was forced to fetch his cell phone because Victor offered no cooperation: he looked at the phone, and it looked like he was looking into it. It was just a young man of seventeen years who had more than one-off relationship with his father, who wanted him to death for having led a young man of seventeen normal, which does would never thought to wrest sinks and toilets from strangers. And yet it would taste.

When Charles finally arrived, the police had finished their round of coordinated long time and was able to go and I turned to the father and son walking backwards to see them getting away with a little Mathilde, watching them be the same size but of opposite corpulence so, I felt so much tension that I never would have imagined they would live on top of each other a few years later.