drank in the '80s, the world Asti Spumante, as if life is not depressing enough already. When I was 14 years old, allowed me the stern woman Mama Asti and the smoking and the make-up and going out. So they had excesses theoretically open the door. The stern woman Mama knew me well enough to know that the Asti and smoking and going out were suddenly of no interest to me. A classic teenage rebellion would not work under these circumstances, I noticed. My ingenuity was required.
The first thing I asked myself a chronic bronchitis. This got me deferred technically not, but made the family, all chain-smoking, at least a guilty conscience. Not that they were smoking less so. They only saw it from contrite. I was coughing very impressive and enduring, but it was very exhausting. Some time I always came the tears, and the painted strip in the Rouge bar on my cheeks. I thought that was stupid in the long run, and I was looking for something else. I was
peace moves. Just so much that it was annoying to others without committing myself to exert too much. I wrote poetry, listened to Tears for Fears , occasionally went on demonstrations and called me in the presence of my grandfather as a European. The then started always from the slit eye, the Ivan and to fantasize the Ami and gave me the minute Tags for precocious monologues.
During this time I began to collect tea. Although I did not like him, I bought tons of them. Because it somehow to my peaceful attitude belonged, and because I liked the tea and the metal cans, in which I kept the tea. I claimed that coffee made aggressive and be an expression of, at best, indifferent attitude towards the exploited coffee farmers in the developing world. Fair Trade Mate tea was convinced peace activists. To which I belonged, but that had to know any. With flavored black tea I brought a refreshing populist intonation in my life.
visit was a nice opportunity to consume at least a portion of tea before he fell into the can to dust. While we discussed the long overdue world salvation, I gave the guests to generously. I myself wetted than the lips. Once said the S. from their visit in the short term, the tea was already in place and set fire to the warmer. Such a stupid cow. From stubbornness, arrogance or pure fatigue life, I decided to start at the point with the tea. Could not be so bad.
The first cup I drank like a cough syrup with holding one's nose. The second tasted terrible. The third was no better. Work began on the fourth cup of my to eyes, detached from my will walk across the room. During the fifth cup of the world has been streaky. After the sixth I got my first migraine. I spent the rest of the afternoon in a cosmos of nausea and pain.
As in the 90 bars Rouge were finally out, I took a deep breath and concentrated fully on coughing again.
The first thing I asked myself a chronic bronchitis. This got me deferred technically not, but made the family, all chain-smoking, at least a guilty conscience. Not that they were smoking less so. They only saw it from contrite. I was coughing very impressive and enduring, but it was very exhausting. Some time I always came the tears, and the painted strip in the Rouge bar on my cheeks. I thought that was stupid in the long run, and I was looking for something else. I was
peace moves. Just so much that it was annoying to others without committing myself to exert too much. I wrote poetry, listened to Tears for Fears , occasionally went on demonstrations and called me in the presence of my grandfather as a European. The then started always from the slit eye, the Ivan and to fantasize the Ami and gave me the minute Tags for precocious monologues.
During this time I began to collect tea. Although I did not like him, I bought tons of them. Because it somehow to my peaceful attitude belonged, and because I liked the tea and the metal cans, in which I kept the tea. I claimed that coffee made aggressive and be an expression of, at best, indifferent attitude towards the exploited coffee farmers in the developing world. Fair Trade Mate tea was convinced peace activists. To which I belonged, but that had to know any. With flavored black tea I brought a refreshing populist intonation in my life.
visit was a nice opportunity to consume at least a portion of tea before he fell into the can to dust. While we discussed the long overdue world salvation, I gave the guests to generously. I myself wetted than the lips. Once said the S. from their visit in the short term, the tea was already in place and set fire to the warmer. Such a stupid cow. From stubbornness, arrogance or pure fatigue life, I decided to start at the point with the tea. Could not be so bad.
The first cup I drank like a cough syrup with holding one's nose. The second tasted terrible. The third was no better. Work began on the fourth cup of my to eyes, detached from my will walk across the room. During the fifth cup of the world has been streaky. After the sixth I got my first migraine. I spent the rest of the afternoon in a cosmos of nausea and pain.
As in the 90 bars Rouge were finally out, I took a deep breath and concentrated fully on coughing again.
