You want me to be honest with you? And although the sport is nothing but Nazeri. For 3 months, you sweat blood and water to successfully keep smiling during (and after) a session of torture in good and due form. You begin to tell you that you could leave the beginners course and pass level. And there is the drama: you stop two weeks due to small confectioners truce.
And when you resume, it's as if you had never done in your life. I feel we made paper mache (but soooo remember, in kindergarten: chopped newsprint that is mixed with water to make a slurry with filthy scultpure informed) with all my muscles.
I see you come right away, band gossip. You are ready to attack you without shame me and my supposed superficiality in suspecting me just having too extensively surveyed the Sidewalk shopping streets since Wednesday morning. Well no, not even. I bought the shoes the most sublime of the earth, and basta.
I do not even show them they are so beautiful, you might recognize me immediately when I crossed the subway so they are inimitable. I know it starts to be a lot of "so" in this sentence, but I still can not believe that these beauties are mine.
Since September I have a micro-orgasm visual seeing them in the window, and are now in my closet (as you say that to my little heart, should I avoid opening too often my cupboard, because they always make me the same effect). If you are a man and you snicker behind your screen, just imagine that I speak of an iPhone, an Audi TT (even if the news is less beautiful than the first) or a private jet (which t ' belongs to you and not Bolloré and not even dream you lend to friends).
Okay, so finally, there may still be justice in this world: my patience and reasonableness (yes, one says how else?) Were rewarded. For the rest, I always felt that Bruce Lee broke my 6 bricks on the belly. But it will pass, eh, not ?
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