The Ghetto Haircut Toronto

come gli innamorati

something long I did not publish music, and then somehow everything has coincided - and ninka_bel wrote a wonderful post about random people on the subway and I remembered how I always regretted that I'm not a genius filmmaker who can shoot what he sees on the road, but so that the meaning of the film stood out as distinctly as the fold in the head stories about people who are only in the underground of large cities can be so shamelessly looking at. and yesterday was nastoschy, the classic "February, to get ink ...", and that's about it "and ..." I have a particularly well. speeding, I could not stop, and all because my husband can not remember that flowers are my birthday it is necessary to give again by literary quotation basis, because "No, I love flowers, but they are not - I love roses." and "I sent you a black rose in a glass of golden gold "and" better umert, not remembering how fair, how fresh were the roses ... and so now all united in faded already in the general song, which I have arbitrarily designated the "our." "Our" it does not recognize my Sasha, "our" - is, of course, Astor Piazzolla. but something in his "History of Love" Dzhovanotti there is ... may it is I just know in the Moscow subway nemoskovskom? or something else may know that I can not identify?