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Spring and women
Here's a little warmer now, now is the spring and will begin with a riot of greenery, hormones and fragrances. Me on a spring always pulls care. Tactics courtship should be inextricably linked with such concepts as wit and surprise. And care must aggressively, persistently, and then no wit will not help.
To approach it and numb, "Come go to the theater, you ochres * neesh!". Well, there is, of course, in response round eyes and "what I'm in this theater has not seen." Here we have to persevere: "That head kick, when you do the last time was in the theater ?!».
There was a time when every other time in francs to "Schweik" stints, if I remember correctly - it was the end of the nineties. And there have been Hostikoeva monologue about women. There was repeated several times in a tone characteristic: "Women!" And then have about poplar and all garbage. That's it, "Women!", So enthusiastically pronounced deep. You sit languid, delicate perfume buds tickled, motivates further lewdness and here it is, "Women!". And if at this point the same waltz of Bulgakov's "Master and Margarita" and still shied away on top - fireworks.
I somehow feel, and since then, as you go out of the house, inhale deeply, and wet wind, already warm, and in my head that way: "Women!". I love this time.
By the way, no one in the theater did not want to go?
To approach it and numb, "Come go to the theater, you ochres * neesh!". Well, there is, of course, in response round eyes and "what I'm in this theater has not seen." Here we have to persevere: "That head kick, when you do the last time was in the theater ?!».
There was a time when every other time in francs to "Schweik" stints, if I remember correctly - it was the end of the nineties. And there have been Hostikoeva monologue about women. There was repeated several times in a tone characteristic: "Women!" And then have about poplar and all garbage. That's it, "Women!", So enthusiastically pronounced deep. You sit languid, delicate perfume buds tickled, motivates further lewdness and here it is, "Women!". And if at this point the same waltz of Bulgakov's "Master and Margarita" and still shied away on top - fireworks.
I somehow feel, and since then, as you go out of the house, inhale deeply, and wet wind, already warm, and in my head that way: "Women!". I love this time.
By the way, no one in the theater did not want to go?
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