среда, 24 октября 2007 г.
And he still said: "No, but I have enough beer. No Bacardi. Have nothing to do with Fanta. The evil ends. " And then he was invited but punchy. And hardly Fanta in almost pure rum. Could you with a magnifying glass looking for partners who Limoanteile. Harter substance, which I tell Dir And not just a glass, at least three. And Sect And then still beer. And not just one. Because the part is so, and is also New Year's Eve. No Pardon. And his self-squatting precaution in a rescue capsule, moved to a higher Warft back, fled before the flood and looked at it from slightly elevated body from outside. Even he was only half Zerschlürftes awareness. A good humored Dämmer, liquid ignorance watered him, and his awareness of liquefied be triggered on in clear water. He still knows everything, but he was not quite there. Dozens nice faces, the potential enormous nice conversations and everything but a little schalou, because you know, you see in the fog rarely clear. The next morning, when the fog has been cleared, he says, the only right. And what all of it probably might have thought. So, have never met, and then, but even such a thing. Donnerknispel. And do not properly noticed, was midnight. More than strange. And then sometime the night went. And thought, "Hey, you be grandiose sense of orientation, but go instead of the familiar roadside dadrüben long time, it should also work." And has that worked, but until more than an hour later. In between Dean shuffling between überschneiten glistening lakes in the Tiergarten, selbstverlorenes eggs on the streets of 17th June. And in between the snow but more like peanut butter ice-cold. Bräunliches Gematsche. Angetaut. And, as with almost Karnickelködeln inside, the Streusplitt so you do not slip. The shoes gnash at every step. Odyssey. Almost winkelscher general sense. Huch, very empty in the victory column. And the S-Bahn station Bellevue. But only pure and out again. Now S-Bahn-Fahren not just because you never know. In sonem condition. Dogged Weiterstapfen. Without a plan, but with fervor. And then, but completely and without a city plan in the unfamiliar city back. Eventually hooked awareness again climbed from its encapsulation, the flood pulled back. A crowd had fun, a little sore muscles in the thighs and kinsternde idea that an illustrious mountain enormously sympathsicher people it would have to be sober to know. The opportunity will come. Does he, as he blushed slightly butter on the multi-grain bread slice smears. Almost a touch of Selbstfremdeln durchschwummert him. Then he stirs klackernd with the spoon through the steaming coffee in Steingutbecher and thinks: "After all had fun."