Peaches No Way Left
+ Mike I dive into a week of work lost in a supermarket.
good intentions for good times only on day 1 is true, then it's all gone where he wanted to go.
We are working to the work of music (Prise de la Bastille, nda). The days have passed, the witness 'our' apartment between Barbera Salmon Sardines, guitars, coffee 14 thousand (Britti beat!) And other culinary horrors.
Gentlemen, we have to do with characters from the novel by Verga, the elderly and young irreverent too reverent ("Lady Do not forget we have peaches on sale at 1 euro! "," 8euro and 78 "and the old deaf" Aaah ??"). The radio
afflicts us with Italian music and we kill with Jamie T, Casablancas and we are also thinking of the Red Hot so forgetful that the elderly indigenous ruraleggianti perhaps ask themselves' what's going to sound, allowing Amplifon.
Sitting on a box in the middle of an assembly of boxes where sun vivacchia a melancholy and clever black kitty.
sweet to me and further orders in this market. Poetry
bench fruit.
Ps: If you sell
Luna at the supermarket would be the end of world or not? In every sense.