Saturday, January 22, 2011

Serienummer Nero 6.6.15

Peti brain. Wasp starts. Ordinary


We welcome as a newcomer to Wasp, the third of the trio of three bloggers. I had not thought before, but the trio means that there are three people. This is the new blogger. Treat it well or you sdrumo teeth on the sidewalk and piss on us. The teeth, not the sidewalk, I'm not rude.

Jack away.



Warning: Before you read the following script, you just tell the users that are about to read the following, that it is pure, simple and innocent bullshit. Good Reading! (Also if there are users of the following script, of course.)


Chapter I

This story begins on a Tuesday evening any, of any one week, one month of any 'last year. (Hehehe ... who do.)

was summer. The south wind blowing, visibility was excellent and the sea calm. The sky looked like a cloth of black velvet sprinkled with golden light, and a dense wood like that of the fairies came to 'ear and having a wisp of smoke el' merry crackling of a fire.

(... .. Let us approach to find out who the good genius who has decided to start a fire deep in the forest, regardless of the brochure of the fire and the warnings of the head of civil protection.)

We also among the leaves, dodging low branches, insects and fairies ... and we take behind a handsome young man sitting next to a potential arson, in the company of his faithful companions: a chicken and a horse. Mimetizziamoci But now with the 'environment and see some of us his own business. And if there is time, we do a quick overview of the area.

"It 's a good night for hunting,"

murmured to herself, jumping around from time to time of furtive glances, as if he feared the 'first strike of a Bengal tiger (but the Bengal tiger in this story for now is not there, then he could feel comfortable). Then to 'suddenly opened the bag that carried tied at the waist and Lancelot (as he called the young man) pulled out one of those things that always roast the boy scouts in American films (the director tells me that it's the marshmallows marshmallows ... but not are soft candy? roast candy? Bleeeeee ....), oh well anyway, I speared on a stick and came to the fire.

"It 's a good evening for hunting, Slayer, "he said in a low voice the bird crouched at his side. The chicken moves a bit 'the ridge and turned from' the other side.

"Shit .. let me sleep in peace ... You broke up yesterday is what co .." thought the chicken.

yum. What kind interesting. -_-Let's go for a ride from 'the other side of the forest, go ...

From' other side of the forest there 'was an old woman who wanted to learn to fly and then dabbled with inventions like Leonardo da Vinci, but without much success as evidenced by the numerous fractures to his coccyx (What is this? Oo ?)(-__- sacrum? makes it better?). And perched on the branch of a pear tree (because its a pear tree?) there was a blackbird, accompanied by his trusty sniffer rat pampers wipes, it was believed a field of strawberries (I'm the strawberry head ... you said ... no ...) on ... a cliff there was a flower singing "goodnight .. brbrrbrbrbrbr floret" and well ... in short, a place nice and normal. Let's see if Lancy has evolved in some way ....

No. He's always close to the damn stuff on the hunt to repeat fire.

Oh! Is rising ... and it's going towards the mare, who is sleeping in the meantime blessed. A moment of tenderness between the rider and his horse! Us approach! The mare then sleeping. And even a little Russian '. Lancelot goes to break even with her history of hunting, that the 'animal pissed and kicks, making him fly like rocket team of Pokemon.


Wasp.

0 comments:

Post a Comment