Welcome siori e more take place e enjoy lo show of the circus from the pantegane!
Dear Ilaria I come from rubbish but I didn't expect all this rubbish here, like Pluto I smell the waste that smells and I find mice of immense size. The tourists' children think they are appearing at Eurodisney, it has become a real business, photos with the mouse are a fixed six euros. The water is private, but so private that they have deprived it from the condominiums, year Domini in which to wash I make myself spit on by bold young men and in the evening it freezes here, we light outbreaks of cholera under the circus tent yellow with black fever and of the black plague.
RIT: And you ask me how it's going? All right. Still asking how it's going? Life in the pantegane circus is fine.
In the striped tent, Mouse Jigen shoots at the crowd but doesn't kill them. The tamer has the zampirone to tame the tiger mosquito. The cannon woman, flies to Venus, must contain venereal diseases. My clownfish doesn't come out of the ice he looks like Nemo in an anemone. Hygiene is out of date, I told you but I'm waiting for you, come to me and I'll infect you. I had a crab attached to me to see what it's like to take an insect to bed. I see parasites more than in parties, cases of abrasions from itching, prostitutes with prostatitis, lymph nodes like meteorites. RIT.
My dear, we also take trips... -3 -2 -1. Countdown, faces paler than a geisha go into trance.
The fever rises to 40 bars and you can catch Sars with a bite of Mars. And if you die a Stark Delicious you become a mouse like Peter Pettigrew. What am I holding on to now that even Linus' blanket is covered in viruses and the contortionist is malnourished, the waistline of a gyros pita. Weak as Vattimo's thought, give her a jar but who will unscrew it?
Black life, there is a host of people who are eating mushrooms on their backs. Acrobats with cysts, vomiting pieces of dinner on the trapeze. RIT.