Wednesday, November 26, 2014

FollowSkabeArt


When you've got today in the afternoon on the porch was winter. And when you came back in the evening, your soft felt boots were piebristi with water. You come in the evening and it was spring. Come the next morning and we ran through the sweaty, hay meadows. Summer sun we will have burned down the shoulders and the skin will begin to peel us in the afternoon, but then it will fall and we will be sitting on sacks of potatoes and speaking vis inconceivable nonsense, drink vodka. And you'll eka notice that we face is nasty smirk.
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