The tape
In my bag, since a few days is an object that is indispensable.
He clashes with other gadgets, perpetual users as perfume, lipstick, mirror, a calendar, a card holder, keys, cell phone, glasses or snuff. But leave home without it is like going without panties. What
snake hibernating in the toolbox, it became the princess awake because of a decree.
No, it is to measure the time or the bus queue, or the distance between two lovers. Judge
street fights, shameless unscrews to be the law.
My tape measure is just to see how far I do not offend when I am in an open space without fear of physical attacks on me the defenders of morality.
Vivo, fortunately, I think, in a well equipped with the best facilities, all within walking distance: hospital, maternity, schools, parks, daycare centers, stations, funeral ... and all thanks to my small contribution as a citizen of either tax.
Well, well, well that have signed to kill me gradually with nicotine!
apparently not worth dying of fleeting pleasures, it is not profitable for the government. I'm thinking
sign up for anonymous drunk is punished and even druggie, the end of the day, wobbling down the sidewalk, you can sit at the door of a hospital without my filthy habit contamination may travel to parks goofy smile the kids on the swings but stinks of gin. Weighing
leaving more expensive, if a Trinkies of brandy or a fine by lighting a cigarette at the bus stop 14. I do not know, I know. Rello
plump my tape measure, that mess! a hundred yards of no where, not fifty of those who, a hundred other of any uffffff part, that waste of mileage.
When storing, tripping over lipstick, purple paint me smile, I see more accentuated hairlines that line my lips, bar code, say the experts. In the end it will be true that older snuff.
Old! I had not noticed, I think I'm old enough to enter a nursing home and there if there can fumarrrrrrrrr.
is for my sake, I know, I say the league "anti things."
nice smelling flowers that harmony of sounds without the annoying coughing of the infected in the cafes, which delight the clink of teaspoons in cups, soft and pink lung no tar!
I arrive home, I count the ashtrays and cigarette butts. At least life imprisonment.
light a cigarette. Pleasant idiocy my circles of smoke. He smiled
safe.
look out the window ... The smoke-free world is just screwed. It's killing me
rheumatism. We run a stupid
veil.