Last night ...
Yesterday evening I was home alone ...
Madame was in archery ... The child slept
...
The gray cat sheba drunk and half-conscious farted on his plaid ...
And I was like millions of people at home alone at night, I watched videos on You Tube.
bicycle accidents, dogs who walk on the forelegs, babies vomit, videos of Chris Brown,
Billions of gigabytes of carefully collected by the bullshit camcorders billion type and chicks at idle uses more billions of types and chicks idle.
And this little vortex of stupidity and boredom, all these dogs, all these bikes, all the baby vomit and this poor idiot Chris Brown, after eighteen minutes, it started to fuck me one of those blues .. .
So I switched everything off ...
I told myself that for once I would do something different ...
I put on the couch, I put a little music ... Jean Sebastien
Bach ...
Prelude and Fugue ...
And I closed my eyes ...
I do not know why, but it did not take ten seconds for me to start thinking about thinking ass ...
Name of God, but I'm sick or something ... Always
is it that I thought of this post I made on the Flemish ...
And I told myself that I was wrong ... The Flemish
... The Flemish ... Ok .. Okay ...
But there, eyes closed on my couch, alone in my house is not Flemish that I began to think ...
On my couch, alone with me, I thought ...
I thought. ... In the Walloon
... The Walloon
... Ahhhh ... the Walloon
They are too good ... I love
Walloon, years that are there under my eyes and it was only yesterday that I saw me as the Walloon ... The Walloon
. ...
They excite me! These little women
râblées that one crosses to Lidle Thuin pushing carts filled to the brim of saturated fat, brown sugar, margarine, white beef, biscuit and chacha ...
It excites me. ... The Walloon
... Sometimes wears like Mary, sometimes as Frederic Ries, sometimes as Fabienne VandeMerche ...
Hesitating between auburn and mahogany and black coal
The Walloon feels both stress and boredom, which feels
The Walloon coal, fen, conifer forest, peat warm the bowl of coffee, the terminus of TEC, the queue at the post office, rice cake, laundry, shower tahiti Houfalize freshness of the soup of the soup, bread and butter and household disinfectant. The Walloon
... The Walloon ... Yummy as a
couque ...
plump as a brol Val Saint Lambert
Sweet like a pack of ball
The Walloon always ready to cry when Frederic Francois sings "love fool" The Walloon
in the heart like a blank
Tender Coughlan
If I was a little less civilized I crosses Wallonia in VW Sharan, I
dredging the Spar, I dredge in Colrythe I dredge in the City Delhaize, I dredge in Super GB,
I find my prey where they are located at radii
waffle ... Her name was Monique
, Cecile, Michelle, Marie-Claire, Françoise, Sophie, Sandra, Natalie, Chantale, Severine, Pascale, Danielle ...
She invited me to her house, in its small interior
somewhat neglected, lino imitation light oak parquet washed with Mr. Clean, lounge furniture mailleux, Ixina his kitchen, a veranda overlooking a four season turf soaked by the rains of the Sambre and Meuse or agonize the inflatable pool in the summer ... It
we will light a fire with the PS's electoral flyers
It would skyrocket Daerden, the Collignon, the Flahaut, the Courard, the Kubla, the Onkelinx, the DONFUT the DiRupo, the Demotte, the Delizée, magnets, the Busquin
Together united to raise the temperature of this small living room of the Rue de Villers-la-Crosse in 4280 The Aspen, Town of Hannut, Province de Liège ... My
Wallonne, 44 ...
children are at Notre Dame High School, is Mr. Delegate Sales,
this afternoon punctuated by a gloomy weather and teleshopping RTL-TVI is ours ... My
Walloon offered as a small pink pig made of marzipan Saint Nicolas. ... Also
a naked white pudding on a plate Seca
It will encourage me to tell me she "Ouftiiii" I tell him the "alleeezzzz said. .. "
It will be lovely as a strike at Arcelor, violent protest as a farmer, as an inter Carolo disorder, burning as a goal of Standart ... Ahhhh ...
Jodoigne
What I am happy to spend Veronique week here ...
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