And I will never write under the Author windows: Vick Larsen
A I will never write under the " windows; The Sun (a kitten, a small fish, hare), I love you! “ I do not like vanilla or menthol snivels on window sills, Teddie`s bears and hearts in different places. I do not like constantly - to talk - through - a hyphen or a cherez_nizhnee_podchyorkivaniye, pictures to winged girls and sad suicide texts, and to me to spit for all bilberry nights, on heavenly smells, on woolen socks and shirts, on cups of tea and coffee, on the drawn-in legs, on scars to spit. Ah yes. On eyelashes, tears and martini. And all because I want from you children. Because I want to fry with you potato and meat, but not to read the statuses on the various Internet. Because I want you in an okhuitelny dress on okhuitelny hairpins. Of course, with an okhuitelny breast and a bum, with the laid or not set head hair. Because I want you and not that in the first paragraph it is wrapped in an arafatka and the photo of kitties. And I as the normal guy, I want to bang you but not to embrace in New year, a plaid, tea and candles. I would like to give you not soft toys, and not mittens from blyadskiya a rosette in addition, and, perhaps, Dovlatov`s meeting, the first snow hidden in the freezer, clothes and footwear, abrupt earphones or a picture. I do not want to hear “ messes “ “ kisses “ and “ pink to you dreams “ it is more pleasant to me to hear how you hate me and in a minute you groan from kisses as you do not allow me to sleep talk on policy and you beat me with a pillow because I do not listen to you. Also drink vodka, eventually. It is a little. Both break ware, and cut to me all laces on boots, and arrange a hysterics - normal - because that you love me and to you insufferably to see my pokhuizm. Because, that I line do not change and I do not understand you. Yes because I love you too, the little fool, and you love me it and for it. And any verses about “ love - " blood; about, blyat, “ he offended, did not see tears “ any to you “ to remove from everywhere “. Tell me. Also calm down. Because you are a woman, and I am a man. Because I want to fuck and devour, and it always so was, and so will be; and it is natural. And I want to guzzle and strike from darling, not with the nervous girl with “ fragile fingers “ and all “ nyashka “ in the room, and with the woman who knows who I am and who is she. With that which does not write “ good night “ by SMS, and comes to me to sleep. Which talks to me and does something with me which lets know that I can be there - and there - it is better, but not “ I was bothered by these and it “ but it does not sjyobyvatsya - sjyobyvatsya, it is prompt and obligatory from songs - at night, to stations, in the girlfriend with alcohol, in a loop, in a bathtub, in chaotic tears. To be the maturing woman - same not only to be able to drink and strike at teenage age and to be a man is not only to tell fairy tales about beautiful life. And, by the way, the relations are when you together made a big ASS, and together, having joined hands, there got, calling it the HOUSE, directing horror at parents and not being going to get out from there.
You still ask why I have no girl … Yes because I am ebanuty.
author: Vick Larsen