bad luck
Memento mori
- Mar 2, 2021
- 772
Is incredible. 2 liters of beer and I am another. It is little alcohol, I know that soon it will go away but I have prepared a bottle of the cheapest vodka I could find. The depression goes away. I can tell, my heart starts to howl. I'm not leaving the house tonight. I don't want another run-in with the police, but let me insult you from here: Dear policeman, if two officers can't cut down an 85-pound drunk civilian, you are shit. It bothered, I know, you worked my leg well but it has already healed. How many men do you need? I'm out of shape, when I train I pass your entrance tests easily. Damn pawns of politicians. My blood has more nobility than that of an entire unit of yours. 100 years ago you came to my great-grandfather's house with your head bowed, garbage of flesh and bones that will never be able to face an Austrian officer decorated with a medal of valor and killed in WWII. Or did you think that my almost 190cm was the result of chance? Damn police!!!! Arggg my warrior spirit begins to awaken. Give me a horse and a full breastplate and a bastard sword ... Arrrr would throw me at you with ancient fury. Tonight I'm going to drink so anything can happen.
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