was very cold last night.
hid her hands under my almost-new red poncho with 60 buttons that I had been convinced to buy it, the mall, the modest sum of twenty euro.
to think of it almost all the winter clothes they cost twenty euro bought recently, most penny penny less, so I was convinced that this was the correct figure for winter clothes, and I was fine. Was reasonable.
But while his hands were warm, my feet were freezing, due to untied doc.martiens which filtered the icy breeze. Needless
keep them under the table.
Before we were seated inside, the bolstered seats to the brewery, in the warmth.
But we know that we would do all smokers for a cigarette, especially if it is to accompany the beer.
I began to do the portrait of my friend and his quasi-boyfriend curly, not to think about the cold.
We could at least ten minutes, then I stufai. The pen that I had lent left much to be desired, although being consumed allowed to fade, when used side.
Things you learn when you forget the pencil at home.
And the marker for the vandalism, which came back to me during my stay in the bathroom, as I watched, balancing on his knees bent, the white tiles and the door is covered with brown, faded writing stupid, noting that there would be good my signature color green lizard.
Sadly I went back to the table, and shortly after we left, looking for a way out among the sea of \u200b\u200bstools around the center of the room. Out of the cold
attacked us again, but went almost immediately, while running from one side of the road, in adoration of the hardbound Charlie Chaplin left unattended (this is not entirely true) next to the cigarette machine (but not strike lucky, as I learned one evening that I was sadly left without) a kiosk.
without thinking much ran to my car, not far away, I opened the bauliera and parked in front of the newsstand, where my friends and quasi-curly-haired boy of one of them, were waiting for me with the hostage in the arm.
not go unnoticed, the patrons of the pub in front of us looked at her curiously, but with the typical expression of those who do not bother to alert the police or whoever to them. But
open the window and frantically shouting "in bauliera! The bauliera! Is open!" putting on your seatbelt and drifting quickly, thanks and fled at full speed toward the house, pretending to spread the cops do not exist, well ... is satisfactory.
My name is Nuke.
And I'm a cartoonist.
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