He dreamt, for ten nights now, about this beautiful place... girl... life... that he had. It just hit him. He wasn't aware of it untill now. The sudden truth, the memory of all... that... he wants... to be... to have... the bundle of joy... the bag of pain... for not having... This World. AAAaa. He told us roaring. And the dreams were gone.
And only then... She came to tHis World. p.s. happy birthday massaaaa :) :):)
STOP SPAMMING MY GIRL U FUCKS! Srry ppl, from now on, if u wish to comment this blog, u must pass the word verification process. To prove that u are aware of ur existance as a Human, Animal, Alien... Spam Agent A.I. ?
...he had been through types 33 (light pricking drizzle which made the roads slippery), 39 ( heavy spotting), 47 to 51 (vertical light drizzle through to sharply slanting light to moderate drizzle freshening), 87 and 88 (two finely distinguished varieties of vertical torrential downpour), 100 (post-downpour squalling, cold), all the seastorm types between 192 and 213 at once, 123, 124, 126, 127 (mild and intermediate cold gusting, regular and syncopated cab-drumming), 11 (breezy droplets), and now his least favourite of all, 17.
Rob McKeena had two hundred and thirty-one different types of rain entered in his little book, and he didn't like any of them.