While waiting for the end of the world or something atleast similar to the |
We sit on the lake in Jönköping and eat buffet brunch stephanie izard while we wait for a lightning stephanie izard storm of the century who simply refuse to break out. It's sticky, still standing and Vättern dryers barely a swell. People bathe without having fun. The dog whimpers a little for the sake of the Cause, stephanie izard but his heart is not in it.
"Bring it," said Honey, and go in and take a little more of Myllymäkys stephanie izard short ribs that are dark, smoky and has a little more interesting than what we think the other guests really appreciate. But we could be wrong there. I ask Honeywell to not remind you that it is the dog days and takes a little stephanie izard more on the char sashimi and scallop. I'll take that last and tells the behind in the queue that I feel a bit like a douche when I do it but just a little, not enough to leave it alone.
Friends twitter how it is. I answer that they've done a very good job to make a brunch buffet in the middle of summer vacation as the crew in the kitchen manages to cook and I'd like to come back and eat properly.
We sat on the porch and my sister on the other side of the road grazing cows while we watched väderappar. "Here it says that the thunder will hit 20:00 so now you know," I said. But the clock was 19:57 and the sky was clear and the only sound was someone who played stephanie izard dance music far away across the fields.
I shared a bottle of weak Bordeaux with my sister and explained that Honey would be massively disappointed if there has been at least a double homicide in rural areas since we were last there but it has moved in a couple of police officers in the village so have pulled the prank call. Additionally, the pedophile scandal was not here, but in the neighboring village of Ruda and it explains so much. They tell that the pedophile was in a severe car accident a few years ago where his brother died and that it was after he got weird and started walking around in clown outfit.
That night we sleep behind mosquito nets and Honey asks if I hear crickets. They are a full orchestra. "No," stephanie izard I say, "I have not heard some crickets at all since I heard Kiss on Eriksdalshallen".
After breakfast we go to the swimming lake. It is a brown mirror in the middle of the woods and looks about the same as when I took swimming badge. The only difference is that the diving tower started to lean precariously which you obviously have not done anything about except to put up a sign that walking on it at your own risk. Honey swim around it and reports that it looks very dull on the underside. Just as the lock type.
Just before Linkoping it a few drops, "Bring it!" Says Honeywell but this clears it up again and I say I am a bit disappointed at the end of civilization. I had expected more.
No tags for this post. This entry was posted on Monday, July 28th, 2014 at 11:53 and is filed under Bacon at the pub, fight against nature, stephanie izard Ballads from the Swedish wilderness. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.
We sit on the lake in Jönköping and eat buffet brunch stephanie izard while we wait for a lightning stephanie izard storm of the century who simply refuse to break out. It's sticky, still standing and Vättern dryers barely a swell. People bathe without having fun. The dog whimpers a little for the sake of the Cause, stephanie izard but his heart is not in it.
"Bring it," said Honey, and go in and take a little more of Myllymäkys stephanie izard short ribs that are dark, smoky and has a little more interesting than what we think the other guests really appreciate. But we could be wrong there. I ask Honeywell to not remind you that it is the dog days and takes a little stephanie izard more on the char sashimi and scallop. I'll take that last and tells the behind in the queue that I feel a bit like a douche when I do it but just a little, not enough to leave it alone.
Friends twitter how it is. I answer that they've done a very good job to make a brunch buffet in the middle of summer vacation as the crew in the kitchen manages to cook and I'd like to come back and eat properly.
We sat on the porch and my sister on the other side of the road grazing cows while we watched väderappar. "Here it says that the thunder will hit 20:00 so now you know," I said. But the clock was 19:57 and the sky was clear and the only sound was someone who played stephanie izard dance music far away across the fields.
I shared a bottle of weak Bordeaux with my sister and explained that Honey would be massively disappointed if there has been at least a double homicide in rural areas since we were last there but it has moved in a couple of police officers in the village so have pulled the prank call. Additionally, the pedophile scandal was not here, but in the neighboring village of Ruda and it explains so much. They tell that the pedophile was in a severe car accident a few years ago where his brother died and that it was after he got weird and started walking around in clown outfit.
That night we sleep behind mosquito nets and Honey asks if I hear crickets. They are a full orchestra. "No," stephanie izard I say, "I have not heard some crickets at all since I heard Kiss on Eriksdalshallen".
After breakfast we go to the swimming lake. It is a brown mirror in the middle of the woods and looks about the same as when I took swimming badge. The only difference is that the diving tower started to lean precariously which you obviously have not done anything about except to put up a sign that walking on it at your own risk. Honey swim around it and reports that it looks very dull on the underside. Just as the lock type.
Just before Linkoping it a few drops, "Bring it!" Says Honeywell but this clears it up again and I say I am a bit disappointed at the end of civilization. I had expected more.
No tags for this post. This entry was posted on Monday, July 28th, 2014 at 11:53 and is filed under Bacon at the pub, fight against nature, stephanie izard Ballads from the Swedish wilderness. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.
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