Creeping crawling spiders. Screeching, crying pears. Always in a group, sometimes spelling out "f**k". That's because innovative prop but stale old idea. Fishes, blood thirsty, shiny one teeth giggling at you, swimming towards the big fat fish.
But I love the pears. They look like they just out of a concentration camp, howling, but they got their share of food there.
This is graffiti on station walls.
One day I am going to stick my boss up there. He is French, paranoid and demonstrates a peculiar table scratching behavior when in conversation. Up there, with fishes devouring him, and penoty pears crying after him. Then everyday I can come to office, bidding him farewell at the station itself.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
4 comments:
Shh! Not a word about French men! ;)
oh if you meet this one, you would go for an opinion makeover!
What's with the table scratching fetish? The French are crazy
He scratches the table when he tries to get across a point. I always expect the next events to be a roar and a pounce :(
Post a Comment