On the parking area on the beach, the cars are scattered here and there, the old guimbarde at the last gleaming SUV. This materialization of social inequalities to stop here, to the wooden barrier of access firefighters. End of the bitumen, beginning of the sand. Return to the sources. The clothes fall, the differences of the mark. The boss has taken his uniform in black neoprene, just as the employee, the laborer, the public servant. The issue is not there. It is no longer question of social position. Just to know what thou art in ability to share as a human being. The wide suddenly, the water ride. The arms are agitated, the legs also. It must be rowing, advance, always. It is to the side. I do not know who he is. Him not more. But our gazes meet. Without n exchange no word, we dévisageons briefly. A sympathetic smile that I give him. In the middle of the salt flats, in the center of the nothing, a fleeting sharing of humanity. I know that whatever happens, I will be able to count on him. Him on me. Conversely. The bar is there. A series of three, first duck. I plunge and sense the force of the scum stroking my back. And it is always there. Has my sides, as to expect. Here, we will not fall. He does not know, nor who I am or where I come from. To be nothing other than a breath of life on which we sleep. And this quest, irrational, inexplicable, which unites us. I have found my partner. I leave the stained-glass window in a form ethereal to place me behind him and the Verge, I whisper him "am me!... "Then, it is lovait in large volutes under the old linden, daring to sometimes wrap around my legs. When one day he deigned clothe me entirely of its milky haze, I lifted up the hand to touch a little, the caress and murmurings him that he would no longer have to fear of being swept away by the next disturbance from the Atlantic, if he agreed to share my home, I would know the protect the time that he would like. He nodded to a gracious volute. The next day, for the host in conditions which ensure both its freedom and security, I had designed an idea, a kind cage to haze which would neither bulkhead, nor bars in which it could rest, come and go at its whim and regenerate as much as necessary and even grow if it wished to. I then removed the old planks posed on the copings of the wells located in the middle of the Court and it was left slide to the interior. Since when time allows, not too hot, not too cold, to the Dawn i the hails by a small: "Outside my beautiful, we are going to do a tour". It fate of home to him and is spreading among the trees and flowers, gavant of odours and dew, then when the sun on the horizon, it regains its cage for a large NAP which lasts until the next day to the small day. This is enough to our happiness. A sweet perfume the challenges... I call on the fairies, simple dragonflies to its eyes to turn him around in an aerial ballet full of grace and lightness. In order to sharpen its perception and make it more responsive, they the guide until the center of the labyrinth. A heat wave passes on him, he shivers, closes the eyes to enjoy the moment. When it reopens, my silhouette is in front of him, certainly immaterial, a simple will be, but this the upset. It tends the hand but it closes on the empty, it makes a not... Then begins a game trail in the gardens of the bishopric, it is stronger than him, it should advance, he wants to understand... Arrived at the collegiate church Saint André, he perceives the music, laughter and voice, by leaning on the bridge, an amphitheater is drawn on the water... there plays "dreams of a summer's night". But it is impossible! It closes the eyes... I slip so my hand in hers and him murmur "Look! ", It reopens and the scene is always there... This bridge is a passage to the world of small people, my kingdom, once it will have crossed we will all be real to His eyes... Still a few not... I ask my lips on his hand and intimate him to advance... It happens at the end of the bridge, I have broken the contact but two Malicious squirrels have taken the relay (two farfadets in reality), which, by their antics, arrive to him to take the last few meters. It finally poses its feet of the other side. And there, as if by magic, everything becomes clear... strangely not surprised and consolidates me in my choice. A naïade shows him the river, it s advance, it is the moment that I selected to get out of the water, I am entirely naked, my beauty cut him the breath. Each drop is illuminated by the Sun caresses my skin and wife my generous forms... I would straighten the hand in him smiling. He joined me, I am facing him, my long copper-colored hair hiding barely my nakedness, i the NOIE in my gaze, it can no longer back, it is mine... I then asked my lips on hers and reverse slowly in the water, we are sinking under the surface... The scenery changes New: a huge crystal palace takes life before his eyes, I can drive. Where it poses his gaze All is grace and voluptuousness, Around him the small batifole people, let us not forget that it is the feast of Baltane, night where everything is allowed... I take my beautiful lover in my private neighborhoods, a huge bed with canopy throne in the middle of the room. In the adjoining room, a large basin of stone in which empties a cascade invites to the bathing. We go there, no word is necessary, a look, a gesture is enough. While I enters the water, it undresses, his body is perfect and promises many pleasures. He joined me, the decency wants that I throw a veil of modesty on what follows, it is just question of passion, caresses, sighs... I am sure that your imagination will do the necessary... In the morning, all this has disappeared, only a large white swan swimming in the surface of the water... of the young man no sign... So if adventure, one evening of May 1, you venture near the laundrette Saint Hilaire, you will hear, can be the loves of the small people and mine.... The extinguisher has said it wants to biner its salads and suggested to Cup To make a watering can of water to refresh the soil. It is executed in bad thanks because gardening has never been his cup of tea. Cup looks at his man bander its muscles on the handle of its fork to return the parched land. It admits that these activities allow him to maintain his line. It is not at risk of having a abdomen pot-bellied, to On the parking area on the beach, the cars are scattered here and there, the old guimbarde at the last gleaming SUV. This materialization of social inequalities to stop here, to the wooden barrier of access firefighters. End of the bitumen, beginning of the sand. Return to the sources. The clothes fall, the differences of the mark. The boss has taken his uniform in black neoprene, just as the employee, the laborer, the public servant. The issue is not there. It is no longer question of social position. Just to know what thou art in ability to share as a human being. The wide suddenly, the water ride. The arms are agitated, the legs also. It must be rowing, advance, always. It is to the side. I do not know who he is. Him not more. But our gazes meet. Without n exchange no word, we dévisageons briefly. A sympathetic smile that I give him. In the middle of the salt flats, in the center of the nothing, a fleeting sharing of humanity. I know that whatever happens, I will be able to count on him. Him on me. Conversely. The bar is there. A series of three, first duck. I plunge and sense the force of the scum stroking my back. And it is always there. Has my sides, as to expect. Here, we will not fall. He does not know, nor who I am or where I come from. To be nothing other than a breath of life on which we sleep. And this quest, irrational, inexplicable, which unites us. I have found my partner. I leave the stained-glass window in a form ethereal to place me behind him and the Verge, I whisper him "am me!... "Then, it is lovait in large volutes under the old linden, daring to sometimes wrap around my legs. When one day he deigned clothe me entirely of its milky haze, I lifted up the hand to touch a little, the caress and murmurings him that he would no longer have to fear of being swept away by the next disturbance from the Atlantic, if he agreed to share my home, I would know the protect the time that he would like. He nodded to a gracious volute. The next day, for the host in conditions which ensure both its freedom and security, I had designed an idea, a kind cage to haze which would neither bulkhead, nor bars in which it could rest, come and go at its whim and regenerate as much as necessary and even grow if it wished to. I then removed the old planks posed on the copings of the wells located in the middle of the Court and it was left slide to the interior. Since when time allows, not too hot, not too cold, to the Dawn i the hails by a small: "Outside my beautiful, we are going to do a tour". It fate of home to him and is spreading among the trees and flowers, gavant of odours and dew, then when the sun on the horizon, it regains its cage for a large NAP which lasts until the next day to the small day. This is enough to our happiness. A sweet perfume the challenges... I call on the fairies, simple dragonflies to its eyes to turn him around in an aerial ballet full of grace and lightness. In order to sharpen its perception and make it more responsive, they the guide until the center of the labyrinth. A heat wave passes on him, he shivers, closes the eyes to enjoy the moment. When it reopens, my silhouette is in front of him, certainly immaterial, a simple will be, but this the upset. It tends the hand but it closes on the empty, it makes a not... Then begins a game trail in the gardens of the bishopric, it is stronger than him, it should advance, he wants to understand... Arrived at the collegiate church Saint André, he perceives the music, laughter and voice, by leaning on the bridge, an amphitheater is drawn on the water... there plays "dreams of a summer's night". But it is impossible! It closes the eyes... I slip so my hand in hers and him murmur "Look! ", It reopens and the scene is always there... This bridge is a passage to the world of small people, my kingdom, once it will have crossed we will all be real to His eyes... Still a few not... I ask my lips on his hand and intimate him to advance... It happens at the end of the bridge, I have broken the contact but two Malicious squirrels have taken the relay (two farfadets in reality), which, by their antics, arrive to him to take the last few meters. It finally poses its feet of the other side. And there, as if by magic, everything becomes clear... strangely not surprised and consolidates me in my choice. A naïade shows him the river, it s advance, it is the moment that I selected to get out of the water, I am entirely naked, my beauty cut him the breath. Each drop is illuminated by the Sun caresses my skin and wife my generous forms... I would straighten the hand in him smiling. He joined me, I am facing him, my long copper-colored hair hiding barely my nakedness, i the NOIE in my gaze, it can no longer back, it is mine... I then asked my lips on hers and reverse slowly in the water, we are sinking under the surface... The scenery changes New: a huge crystal palace takes life before his eyes, I can drive. Where it poses his gaze All is grace and voluptuousness, Around him the small batifole people, let us not forget that it is the feast of Baltane, night where everything is allowed... I take my beautiful lover in my private neighborhoods, a huge bed with canopy throne in the middle of the room. In the adjoining room, a large basin of stone in which empties a cascade invites to the bathing. We go there, no word is necessary, a look, a gesture is enough. While I enters the water, it undresses, his body is perfect and promises many pleasures. He joined me, the decency wants that I throw a veil of modesty on what follows, it is just question of passion, caresses, sighs... I am sure that your imagination will do the necessary... In the morning, all this has disappeared, only a large white swan swimming in the surface of the water... of the young man no sign... So if adventure, one evening of May 1, you venture near the laundrette Saint Hilaire, you will hear, can be the loves of the small people and mine.... The extinguisher has said it wants to biner its salads and suggested to Cup To make a watering can of water to refresh the soil. It is executed in bad thanks because gardening has never been his cup of tea. Cup looks at his man bander its muscles on the handle of its fork to return the parched land. It admits that these activities allow him to maintain his line. It is not at risk of having a abdomen pot-bellied, to On the parking area on the beach, the cars are scattered here and there, the old guimbarde at the last gleaming SUV. This materialization of social inequalities to stop here, to the wooden barrier of access firefighters. End of the bitumen, beginning of the sand. Return to the sources. The clothes fall, the differences of the mark. The boss has taken his uniform in black neoprene, just as the employee, the laborer, the public servant. The issue is not there. It is no longer question of social position. Just to know what thou art in ability to share as a human being. The wide suddenly, the water ride. The arms are agitated, the legs also. It must be rowing, advance, always. It is to the side. I do not know who he is. Him not more. But our gazes meet. Without n exchange no word, we dévisageons briefly. A sympathetic smile that I give him. In the middle of the salt flats, in the center of the nothing, a fleeting sharing of humanity. I know that whatever happens, I will be able to count on him. Him on me. Conversely. The bar is there. A series of three, first duck. I plunge and sense the force of the scum stroking my back. And it is always there. Has my sides, as to expect. Here, we will not fall. He does not know, nor who I am or where I come from. To be nothing other than a breath of life on which we sleep. And this quest, irrational, inexplicable, which unites us. I have found my partner. I leave the stained-glass window in a form ethereal to place me behind him and the Verge, I whisper him "am me!... "Then, it is lovait in large volutes under the old linden, daring to sometimes wrap around my legs. When one day he deigned clothe me entirely of its milky haze, I lifted up the hand to touch a little, the caress and murmurings him that he would no longer have to fear of being swept away by the next disturbance from the Atlantic, if he agreed to share my home, I would know the protect the time that he would like. He nodded to a gracious volute. The next day, for the host in conditions which ensure both its freedom and security, I had designed an idea, a kind cage to haze which would neither bulkhead, nor bars in which it could rest, come and go at its whim and regenerate as much as necessary and even grow if it wished to. I then removed the old planks posed on the copings of the wells located in the middle of the Court and it was left slide to the interior. Since when time allows, not too hot, not too cold, to the Dawn i the hails by a small: "Outside my beautiful, we are going to do a tour". It fate of home to him and is spreading among the trees and flowers, gavant of odours and dew, then when the sun on the horizon, it regains its cage for a large NAP which lasts until the next day to the small day. This is enough to our happiness. A sweet perfume the challenges... I call on the fairies, simple dragonflies to its eyes to turn him around in an aerial ballet full of grace and lightness. In order to sharpen its perception and make it more responsive, they the guide until the center of the labyrinth. A heat wave passes on him, he shivers, closes the eyes to enjoy the moment. When it reopens, my silhouette is in front of him, certainly immaterial, a simple will be, but this the upset. It tends the hand but it closes on the empty, it makes a not... Then begins a game trail in the gardens of the bishopric, it is stronger than him, it should advance, he wants to understand... Arrived at the collegiate church Saint André, he perceives the music, laughter and voice, by leaning on the bridge, an amphitheater is drawn on the water... there plays "dreams of a summer's night". But it is impossible! It closes the eyes... I slip so my hand in hers and him murmur "Look! ", It reopens and the scene is always there... This bridge is a passage to the world of small people, my kingdom, once it will have crossed we will all be real to His eyes... Still a few not... I ask my lips on his hand and intimate him to advance... It happens at the end of the bridge, I have broken the contact but two Malicious squirrels have taken the relay (two farfadets in reality), which, by their antics, arrive to him to take the last few meters. It finally poses its feet of the other side. And there, as if by magic, everything becomes clear... strangely not surprised and consolidates me in my choice. A naïade shows him the river, it s advance, it is the moment that I selected to get out of the water, I am entirely naked, my beauty cut him the breath. Each drop is illuminated by the Sun caresses my skin and wife my generous forms... I would straighten the hand in him smiling. He joined me, I am facing him, my long copper-colored hair hiding barely my nakedness, i the NOIE in my gaze, it can no longer back, it is mine... I then asked my lips on hers and reverse slowly in the water, we are sinking under the surface... The scenery changes New: a huge crystal palace takes life before his eyes, I can drive. Where it poses his gaze All is grace and voluptuousness, Around him the small batifole people, let us not forget that it is the feast of Baltane, night where everything is allowed... I take my beautiful lover in my private neighborhoods, a huge bed with canopy throne in the middle of the room. In the adjoining room, a large basin of stone in which empties a cascade invites to the bathing. We go there, no word is necessary, a look, a gesture is enough. While I enters the water, it undresses, his body is perfect and promises many pleasures. He joined me, the decency wants that I throw a veil of modesty on what follows, it is just question of passion, caresses, sighs... I am sure that your imagination will do the necessary... In the morning, all this has disappeared, only a large white swan swimming in the surface of the water... of the young man no sign... So if adventure, one evening of May 1, you venture near the laundrette Saint Hilaire, you will hear, can be the loves of the small people and mine.... The extinguisher has said it wants to biner its salads and suggested to Cup To make a watering can of water to refresh the soil. It is executed in bad thanks because gardening has never been his cup of tea. Cup looks at his man bander its muscles on the handle of its fork to return the parched land. It admits that these activities allow him to maintain his line. It is not at risk of having a abdomen pot-bellied, to On the parking area on the beach, the cars are scattered here and there, the old guimbarde at the last gleaming SUV. This materialization of social inequalities to stop here, to the wooden barrier of access firefighters. End of the bitumen, beginning of the sand. Return to the sources. The clothes fall, the differences of the mark. The boss has taken his uniform in black neoprene, just as the employee, the laborer, the public servant. The issue is not there. It is no longer question of social position. Just to know what thou art in ability to share as a human being. The wide suddenly, the water ride. The arms are agitated, the legs also. It must be rowing, advance, always. It is to the side. I do not know who he is. Him not more. But our gazes meet. Without n exchange no word, we dévisageons briefly. A sympathetic smile that I give him. In the middle of the salt flats, in the center of the nothing, a fleeting sharing of humanity. I know that whatever happens, I will be able to count on him. Him on me. Conversely. The bar is there. A series of three, first duck. I plunge and sense the force of the scum stroking my back. And it is always there. Has my sides, as to expect. Here, we will not fall. He does not know, nor who I am or where I come from. To be nothing other than a breath of life on which we sleep. And this quest, irrational, inexplicable, which unites us. I have found my partner. I leave the stained-glass window in a form ethereal to place me behind him and the Verge, I whisper him "am me!... "Then, it is lovait in large volutes under the old linden, daring to sometimes wrap around my legs. When one day he deigned clothe me entirely of its milky haze, I lifted up the hand to touch a little, the caress and murmurings him that he would no longer have to fear of being swept away by the next disturbance from the Atlantic, if he agreed to share my home, I would know the protect the time that he would like. He nodded to a gracious volute. The next day, for the host in conditions which ensure both its freedom and security, I had designed an idea, a kind cage to haze which would neither bulkhead, nor bars in which it could rest, come and go at its whim and regenerate as much as necessary and even grow if it wished to. I then removed the old planks posed on the copings of the wells located in the middle of the Court and it was left slide to the interior. Since when time allows, not too hot, not too cold, to the Dawn i the hails by a small: "Outside my beautiful, we are going to do a tour". It fate of home to him and is spreading among the trees and flowers, gavant of odours and dew, then when the sun on the horizon, it regains its cage for a large NAP which lasts until the next day to the small day. This is enough to our happiness. A sweet perfume the challenges...  I call on the fairies, simple dragonflies to its eyes to turn him around in an aerial ballet full of grace and lightness. In order to sharpen its perception and make it more responsive, they the guide until the center of the labyrinth. A heat wave passes on him, he shivers, closes the eyes to enjoy the moment. When it reopens, my silhouette is in front of him, certainly immaterial, a simple will be, but this the upset. It tends the hand but it closes on the empty, it makes a not... Then begins a game trail in the gardens of the bishopric, it is stronger than him, it should advance, he wants to understand... Arrived at the collegiate church Saint André, he perceives the music, laughter and voice, by leaning on the bridge, an amphitheater is drawn on the water... there plays "dreams of a summer's night". But it is impossible! It closes the eyes... I slip so my hand in hers and him murmur "Look! ", It reopens and the scene is always there... This bridge is a passage to the world of small people, my kingdom, once it will have crossed we will all be real to His eyes... Still a few not... I ask my lips on his hand and intimate him to advance... It happens at the end of the bridge, I have broken the contact but two Malicious squirrels have taken the relay (two farfadets in reality), which, by their antics, arrive to him to take the last few meters. It finally poses its feet of the other side. And there, as if by magic, everything becomes clear... strangely not surprised and consolidates me in my choice. A naïade shows him the river, it s advance, it is the moment that I selected to get out of the water, I am entirely naked, my beauty cut him the breath. Each drop is illuminated by the Sun caresses my skin and wife my generous forms... I would straighten the hand in him smiling. He joined me, I am facing him, my long copper-colored hair hiding barely my nakedness, i the NOIE in my gaze, it can no longer back, it is mine... I then asked my lips on hers and reverse slowly in the water, we are sinking under the surface... The scenery changes New: a huge crystal palace takes life before his eyes, I can drive. Where it poses his gaze All is grace and voluptuousness, Around him the small batifole people, let us not forget that it is the feast of Baltane, night where everything is allowed... I take my beautiful lover in my private neighborhoods, a huge bed with canopy throne in the middle of the room. In the adjoining room, a large basin of stone in which empties a cascade invites to the bathing. We go there, no word is necessary, a look, a gesture is enough. While I enters the water, it undresses, his body is perfect and promises many pleasures. He joined me, the decency wants that I throw a veil of modesty on what follows, it is just question of passion, caresses, sighs... I am sure that your imagination will do the necessary... In the morning, all this has disappeared, only a large white swan swimming in the surface of the water... of the young man no sign... So if adventure, one evening of May 1, you venture near the laundrette Saint Hilaire, you will hear, can be the loves of the small people and mine.... The extinguisher has said it wants to biner its salads and suggested to Cup To make a watering can of water to refresh the soil. It is executed in bad thanks because gardening has never been his cup of tea. Cup looks at his man bander its muscles on the handle of its fork to return the parched land. It admits that these activities allow him to maintain his line. It is not at risk of having a abdomen pot-bellied, to On the parking area on the beach, the cars are scattered here and there, the old guimbarde at the last gleaming SUV. This materialization of social inequalities to stop here, to the wooden barrier of access firefighters. End of the bitumen, beginning of the sand. Return to the sources. The clothes fall, the differences of the mark. The boss has taken his uniform in black neoprene, just as the employee, the laborer, the public servant. The issue is not there. It is no longer question of social position. Just to know what thou art in ability to share as a human being. The wide suddenly, the water ride. The arms are agitated, the legs also. It must be rowing, advance, always. It is to the side. I do not know who he is. Him not more. But our gazes meet. Without n exchange no word, we dévisageons briefly. A sympathetic smile that I give him. In the middle of the salt flats, in the center of the nothing, a fleeting sharing of humanity. I know that whatever happens, I will be able to count on him. Him on me. Conversely. The bar is there. A series of three, first duck. I plunge and sense the force of the scum stroking my back. And it is always there. Has my sides, as to expect. Here, we will not fall. He does not know, nor who I am or where I come from. To be nothing other than a breath of life on which we sleep. And this quest, irrational, inexplicable, which unites us. I have found my partner. I leave the stained-glass window in a form ethereal to place me behind him and the Verge, I whisper him "am me!... "Then, it is lovait in large volutes under the old linden, daring to sometimes wrap around my legs. When one day he deigned clothe me entirely of its milky haze, I lifted up the hand to touch a little, the caress and murmurings him that he would no longer have to fear of being swept away by the next disturbance from the Atlantic, if he agreed to share my home, I would know the protect the time that he would like. He nodded to a gracious volute. The next day, for the host in conditions which ensure both its freedom and security, I had designed an idea, a kind cage to haze which would neither bulkhead, nor bars in which it could rest, come and go at its whim and regenerate as much as necessary and even grow if it wished to. I then removed the old planks posed on the copings of the wells located in the middle of the Court and it was left slide to the interior. Since when time allows, not too hot, not too cold, to the Dawn i the hails by a small: "Outside my beautiful, we are going to do a tour". It fate of home to him and is spreading among the trees and flowers, gavant of odours and dew, then when the sun on the horizon, it regains its cage for a large NAP which lasts until the next day to the small day. This is enough to our happiness. A sweet perfume the challenges... I call on the fairies, simple dragonflies to its eyes to turn him around in an aerial ballet full of grace and lightness. In order to sharpen its perception and make it more responsive, they the guide until the center of the labyrinth. A heat wave passes on him, he shivers, closes the eyes to enjoy the moment. When it reopens, my silhouette is in front of him, certainly immaterial, a simple will be, but this the upset. It tends the hand but it closes on the empty, it makes a not... Then begins a game trail in the gardens of the bishopric, it is stronger than him, it should advance, he wants to understand... Arrived at the collegiate church Saint André, he perceives the music, laughter and voice, by leaning on the bridge, an amphitheater is drawn on the water... there plays "dreams of a summer's night". But it is impossible! It closes the eyes... I slip so my hand in hers and him murmur "Look! ", It reopens and the scene is always there... This bridge is a passage to the world of small people, my kingdom, once it will have crossed we will all be real to His eyes... Still a few not... I ask my lips on his hand and intimate him to advance... It happens at the end of the bridge, I have broken the contact but two Malicious squirrels have taken the relay (two farfadets in reality), which, by their antics, arrive to him to take the last few meters. It finally poses its feet of the other side. And there, as if by magic, everything becomes clear... strangely not surprised and consolidates me in my choice. A naïade shows him the river, it s advance, it is the moment that I selected to get out of the water, I am entirely naked, my beauty cut him the breath. Each drop is illuminated by the Sun caresses my skin and wife my generous forms... I would straighten the hand in him smiling. He joined me, I am facing him, my long copper-colored hair hiding barely my nakedness, i the NOIE in my gaze, it can no longer back, it is mine... I then asked my lips on hers and reverse slowly in the water, we are sinking under the surface... The scenery changes New: a huge crystal palace takes life before his eyes, I can drive. Where it poses his gaze All is grace and voluptuousness, Around him the small batifole people, let us not forget that it is the feast of Baltane, night where everything is allowed... I take my beautiful lover in my private neighborhoods, a huge bed with canopy throne in the middle of the room. In the adjoining room, a large basin of stone in which empties a cascade invites to the bathing. We go there, no word is necessary, a look, a gesture is enough. While I enters the water, it undresses, his body is perfect and promises many pleasures. He joined me, the decency wants that I throw a veil of modesty on what follows, it is just question of passion, caresses, sighs... I am sure that your imagination will do the necessary... In the morning, all this has disappeared, only a large white swan swimming in the surface of the water... of the young man no sign... So if adventure, one evening of May 1, you venture near the laundrette Saint Hilaire, you will hear, can be the loves of the small people and mine.... The extinguisher has said it wants to biner its salads and suggested to Cup To make a watering can of water to refresh the soil. It is executed in bad thanks because gardening has never been his cup of tea. Cup looks at his man bander its muscles on the handle of its fork to return the parched land. It admits that these activities allow him to maintain his line. It is not at risk of having a abdomen pot-bellied, to