the magic spell


sammy is standing in front of the window one afternoon and chasing his dick. simply normality. bees are already flying outside… but the hunting is not much fun for him. he does it just because he always has a dick on his booze and needs to get out of it ... different people walk around, but none of them think to look in his direction. in addition, the curtains already remember quite a bit and goes through them equally spherical to see, so he feels totally cool and not at all strange. sammy says himself he'll give it two more minutes, but he's still internally convinced he's going to leave it ... head over to chase other things. he thinks of ann and all her bullshit about how insincere she is about how terribly sorry she is about to break up and that nobody else is in thein relationship (exactly a week later he was carving that blonde dry dick his first shipment of clothes into her aparment in his white car, so as the ordinary people say, the bed has not yet cooled and another one was already in it), or how they should give themselves a time and that she certainly does not want to divorce (while by doing so at one of the many very emotional and very embarrassing exchanges of messages, which at least a couple of weeks freshly after they broke ann send him quite often, so the next day sammy had in the mailbox completely filled in the divorce application with the electronic signature of the lawyer, that is, the lawyer lady, the pussy, her best friend which, unfortunately, has not any experienced a single relationship in life, not the only passion and that´s why she is not against the mind to write shit of this type, but be forgiven) ... or how ann put on sammy´s heart equips the rumors about not leaving his homeland and moving to the city, when, after a few months, they met in the street accidentally, there were no words that she liked to see him, but rather, something in the way of being knip into her life and also remembering herself how she wrote to him that she was not a heartless bitch, but sammy had long ago known that he had come upon a bitch of unbelievable proportions, a heartless and unpretentious whore, an indoctrinated egoist growing up only with her retarded sister, so raised as an only child. very confident and purposeful, it should be noted that a completely average economist, without any human qualities, successful only thanks to the wealth of his great parents ... he himself suddenly remembered eva and at the moment he did into the piece of dirty curtains ... on the lawn behind the window the dog just pissed off and when he finished the work, he had a blissful expression in his face ... the bed is still warm, sammy thought….little joy - evaporar



princess of maine


for the first time kevin went there by accident. was the end of october, and the trees were almost without leaves, but the proper winter had not started yet ... just in the morning it was already a serious cold, but it was always a good day or it was raining during the day but it was hanging in the air ... no doubt ... peoples faces looked somewhat surrendered and, like every year, the autumn deck began to dump. kevin used to wear shabby red-scarfs that had been attributed to the life of "before", the afternoon wandering through the streets, and listening to the lost highway. kevin has just gone through another relationship that he has always given absolutely everything, and of course it has not always worked out of course, and of course he was totally at the bottom, it can be said, fuck! he often thought about it, but he did not think of it as a single wicked solution, how out of this ... he was probably too accustomed to loneliness, or simply choosing unsuitable (the word is not fitting into the human realm) of his partner ... her name was elza but her artistic pseudonym was simone. although she used it actually in ordinary life. they met together at one exhibition in a smaller insignificant gallery at the opening of a very insignificant young artist who was unfortunately never successful in the future and in the next life even more (because he became a dog) and, like most other photographers ended working on the product photography, but this is not this story about ... elza or if you want simone there stood a model as one of the living statues depicting the symbol of fertility (in that case she can´t represent anything else). kevin, in the beginning, like all the visitors, to find art, but it must be said that the show/art presentation was one average shit and only one that was worth seeing at the show (and later he noticed that he was not the only one who felt that way – there were only guys) was simone. as a symbol of fertility, she was not allowed to wear panties, and it was all fucking-crazy-sexy. kevin was always just passing through her, but he'd been there for a long time, and he'd been there for hours and he did not feel stupid at all. simone, his daintyness was quite sympathetic, and she always smiled at him when she was taking a break and going for a cigaret. and not from compassion, kevin was not a complete despair. he was able to earned some money, had a solid apartment in the center of antwerpen, every evening he had a bottle of a flat lake by leo hillinger for 9.9 e, and in a quarter in the middle high school he was chosen as a most sympathic graduate of the school year, which testified to something. desperate was his expose, which, unfortunately, he had always gone, and he had already been remarked. once kevin added courage, and invited simone to a drink during the smoking pause. she agreed, and kevin was extremely happy ... everything was cheerful again, the more colorful, the air smelled, and birds sang ... about a month after kevin and simone had met regularly, and kevin thought they could move on more in their relationship, simone told him not to see him again ... she got together with the photographer ... it was a month till the christmas and kevin had no gifts yet ... it quite calmed him down… i wanna win – jaako



product of pleasure


hans comes at the beach every morning at nine. his story is plain and simple. his wife stopped having fun with him for years and left him fortunately at the time when their children were older. for a while he tried to go on a dates and various randez-vous, but it was not too. he always met someone who just wanted to fuck over with him. after some time he stopped looking for anyone. he got used to stay alone and he was very well. hans is always wearing a mercedes-benz advertising cup (copper never owned) and a large black bag in hand. he always sits in the same place on the edge of the beach. beachboy does not care. hans is pretty dull, it could be said uninterested. on the scale of sympathy he gained number two (one is the least, ten is the top). take off his shirt and light a cigarette, smoke more than enough, but he does not care. the future does not interest him. and observes the horizon and the beginning of the cricket on the beach, which begins to wake up slowly. at ten o´clock he opens the first beer and the cigar beeps in the sand (he hates it on the others). he knocks the cigar next to each other. their heads are licked, and when one narrows his eyes, he thinks of sculptures on easter island, with a little imagination. his bag consists a snorkel with fins, a book and the pack of cold beers. always before the holiday, where he has long failed to remember the strange, chooses a sad piece (book)  that he never really begins to read, it is a shame to destroy the time at the seaside some gloom, the relationship of summaries, which in most cases it will go wrong anyway, or how it can never happen in real life, but it creates a sense of vacation. during this brief contemplation, the beach was relatively full even during this late summer, which was a clear sign for nafiz  and other beach vendors to go on their all-day, aimless walks from one end of the beach to the other one and offer all those shrimps that are sold him by the bastard in the city that stretches on the back and which no one wants. the seventh year says himself to leave this desperate effort ... but the money needs ... even the little that he earns ... till the noon the temperature is quite solid, the people are still not nervous and behave "normally", that is, sometimes he or she listens to his scholarly fluency (haha) in four languages ​​(some traveling here from germany, england, russia and the mixture from the east), sometimes petting him someone sit closer for a while or give him something to drink or eat. this is exactly his chance ... he knows it and knows it all the other retailers who offer their own and same goods ... at noon it is usually worths shit ... it´s terrific heat and the pauses he gives are becoming more common and longer and he is already desperate ... people are sleeping better or playing thein sleeping after lunch, drinking cold drinks, looking through their original ray ban they can not see or read books whose names and drawings nafiz do not understand ... in the evening the situatio  improves again. it is a pleasent breeze, he swells slightly and the water seems a bit cooler ... at six o´clock nafiz seats in the shadow of the palm tree and recapitulates today's catch. he did not have his day. he sold only two beads, five euros in total. looks around for a while and looks for a horizon ... somewhere ... nafiz  looking forvard to see his children, it will be like in half a year ... a great luxury yacht was slowly passing by, where music is loud and where the young and beautiful people have a great fun. it looks like the beginning of a great party... hans too, he swamped the last bottle and decided to go to the hotel. before the shower he will blow off his dick and then he'll break into the hotel restaurant (cooking here is really great). before going to bed he will have a few more glasses of duckhorn merlot by three palms vineyard... in front of him is still a whole week ... scale it back - dj shadow



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