Interestingly. last I bought my cologne it was from a chemist shop, I trust this guy, because he gives me what I want and I have not had any complain from him. He stocks up everything from medicine, aspirins to cheston cold, he has everything, Lim-C and you will even get a bottle whisky from the nearby "theka" if you ask. Smart and well dressed he just goes on and on about the medicine he sells, prices and their milligrams contents all read like a clockwork.
Just the other day, was it yesterday, I walked into the store and asked him for a pair of underwears, and he said, " for yourself or your wife ?". I looked at him said, "what do you know about my wife ?". He turned around and told me she had come looking for a pair of scissors the other day and had gone back buying a pair of gloves and iodine as well. Set my mind in running, scissors probably to kill me and iodine to erase any fingerprints that the gloves might not cover.
See, everybody knows everything here, so if I had a fight my girlfriend they know, whether I have a girlfriend or not they know, how many ? a few would know and how many I have had sex with ?another handful would yet know. It is a strange world, like I keep repeating, that requires us to tell more of ourself than learn of others. For instance, my friend, I know today that you get your undies all mixed up and your sock are never in pair, so you have to look for the other half every morning. I know your breakfast is always ready and you can deny it, but you are a fast food person.
I love chinese, the other days at the diners I picked up a delivery for chicken chopsuey and a sweet corn soup, it got delivered to me with flavouring, the ubiquitous yellow and red sauce, and what did I do, walloped the soup and saved the rest for another day. Morning when I got up, though I do admit it was late, more like 9ish, the chopsuey was gone and the flavouring was in the dustbin. Most of love the chef' so much that we never add flavouring to our food, its like almost saying that I know you chef.
But the point is that even if I knew the chef', where did my chopsuey disappear to, there is no one in the house except me last night and I am stunned to stay the least. All doors shut and no one in pursuit and yet the chopsuey is not there in the stack on the table. I called up the diners and they said I had no clue what I was talking about, see I had been charged Rs 700 for stuff that was worth only Rs 150.
Two for the price of one - lose them folks, you don't need them
Just the other day, was it yesterday, I walked into the store and asked him for a pair of underwears, and he said, " for yourself or your wife ?". I looked at him said, "what do you know about my wife ?". He turned around and told me she had come looking for a pair of scissors the other day and had gone back buying a pair of gloves and iodine as well. Set my mind in running, scissors probably to kill me and iodine to erase any fingerprints that the gloves might not cover.
See, everybody knows everything here, so if I had a fight my girlfriend they know, whether I have a girlfriend or not they know, how many ? a few would know and how many I have had sex with ?another handful would yet know. It is a strange world, like I keep repeating, that requires us to tell more of ourself than learn of others. For instance, my friend, I know today that you get your undies all mixed up and your sock are never in pair, so you have to look for the other half every morning. I know your breakfast is always ready and you can deny it, but you are a fast food person.
I love chinese, the other days at the diners I picked up a delivery for chicken chopsuey and a sweet corn soup, it got delivered to me with flavouring, the ubiquitous yellow and red sauce, and what did I do, walloped the soup and saved the rest for another day. Morning when I got up, though I do admit it was late, more like 9ish, the chopsuey was gone and the flavouring was in the dustbin. Most of love the chef' so much that we never add flavouring to our food, its like almost saying that I know you chef.
But the point is that even if I knew the chef', where did my chopsuey disappear to, there is no one in the house except me last night and I am stunned to stay the least. All doors shut and no one in pursuit and yet the chopsuey is not there in the stack on the table. I called up the diners and they said I had no clue what I was talking about, see I had been charged Rs 700 for stuff that was worth only Rs 150.
Two for the price of one - lose them folks, you don't need them
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