playboys of culture

aber nicht laecheln, das foto ist fuer den chip.

In meiner Nähe
sitzt eine Krähe,
was wohl geschähe
wenn sie mich sähe?

... and he's got this massive statue of Stalin, or was it Lenin, in the backyard of his house in Sussex.
No that was his brother.

1 Who's that guy with the camera back there? Immediately stop pointing that black, phallic thing at me. What do you think I am? A, god forbid, PRO-STI-TUTE, or what? Available for anyone, willing to be used, anytime, just for the pleasure? Tut! You will take that away right now. I'll soon marry this guy here, what's his name, Tom, and you can't help it. No matter how covetously you stare at me, no matter how strong your hands may be, how hairy your chest, how firmly you would grab my waist, how close you would pull my body towards yours. And your manly smell, yuck, would disgust me. You should take a shower. And soap, yes, soap wouldn't harm. You need to rub it all over, all over your thewy, wet body that came to show through the steam behind the semi-transparent shower curtain. Shower curtain... why can't you unfurl it properly when you step out of the shower, so it can dry. I hate how you don't care. It's such a simple thing. But you, you just pull it back, step out to the floor, dripping wet, carelessly push your hair back with your hand, grab a towel and wrap it round your waist. So tight it would go baggy from the muscles of your firm backside ...

2 Eeeww, Tom!!! Take your hand off there. I hate it when you do that. What do you want people to think of me?! Men are such pigs!

3 ... and then I'd throw myself to the ground, with the left grabbing a fistful of mud and rub it in my face for camouflage, and with the right holding tight onto the MK21, the loyal gun that I had been carrying through heavy rainfall for 3 days already and that could rescue our trapped men ... and I'd shout for more ammo over the noise of heavy gunfire, but those wet blankets in my squad would still be hiding their asses. Not even 10 yards closer since I had turned around for them last time. Shiftless pantywaists.

4 Why am I wearing this?! Silly, uncomfortable, hot! Way too heavy, way too small. Just because EVERYONE ALWAYS follows Tommy. It's not right, it's unfair. Tommy is much smaller than I am. I should actually be the one they listen to. They should look up to me and listen. I actually have something to say, don't I. Unlike Tommy. Tommy just blurts out with all he comes up with, and because that's not much it sounds reasonable, and everyone follows Tommy, lined up like tin soldiers. And Tommy's sister, whom I go out with just because she would?! Mindless fashion victim, in those ridiculous thongs. Her feet smell, too.

5 Threehundredandthirtyfour, threehundredandthirtyFIVE, threehundered AAAAND thirty SEX. heehee

6 Did you just smell that?

7 Feet, honey. Feet and composition rubber. Due to the fact that rubber does not absorb the sweat that is produced by the human feet, and sweat besides water and minerals contains all sorts of hormones, pheromones, ureae and carbohydrates, which when decomposing produce a distinctive body-odor, unpleasant to the human nose for the valid evolutionary reason of facilitating the identification of clean and hence potentially healthy mates ...

8 All good, honey.

9 Look, the seagulls back there. Isn’t that pure beauty?! The way they fly, close to the ground and sometimes, when the wind is just right, they manage to hover in the air on the same spot, for a few seconds only, before they break away left or right and celebrate their success with slaphappy tumbles. … Wanna go and grab a bite somewhere? After all it's Valentine’s day.

Suche Freundin die Google nicht kennt.

culture rollback