blogger greets the dawn before going to bed because the cricket within itself imposes to make the rounds of his one hundred thirty-four links, only to wake up at half past eight to check if there were no responses to his comments.
The blogger has a cervical vertebra subversive, a harbinger of old age with sticks, spat and scraping with a straight denture adhesive paste.
The blogger has performance anxiety, not the sweaty naked bodies, hands on hips, languages \u200b\u200band difficulties. Performance by bloggers, quick post, post correctly, the original post, quips, jokes and if people I know cocks
With friends becomes almost embarrassing
"guys I'm going .."
"but how, already?"
"oh yes ... I have to go right!"
"go fuck but it was better if you said you were going to hell!"
The blogger comes back and sits down, that the world is an operating system, a search engine and infinite words have no voice, only font and finger fast.
One day, the blogger gets a nice comment on his last post, "one hot" is the signature that intrigues him, one click and the world of "hot single" opens with gentle music in the background.
Looks good and he knows his body, peers think they know better and even that mole on her breast, but can not be true, not his girlfriend with another sheep to him from behind.
Riiiiiiing
... "Laura, sorry, but you started a blog signed - and only hot -? "
" Yes, why? "
" M-ma, Laura, are you fucking with another man, and sheep to come with me you never did! "
" If instead of doing the zombie with your blog the hell I'd be treated as duty and maybe grabbed from behind, you see instead of what you were there ... on, what you have to say? "
" Well, oh, you know I'm no good with words, expect that you leave a comment ... "
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