Pepperspray Paintballs

Finally happened!

After seven months of unemployment, lack of money and other outrages faithful, a graduate Conservatoire got my dream job. Finally, he will be able to create, invent, try it. Tour across the continent on a medium movement, reminiscent of a spaceship: Canadian taiga, the Mexican desert, the Arizona cacti, discreet nebrasskie landscapes. Creative work where time is flying at a speed of 55 miles per hour under the complete works of Bach, Verdi incomplete, singing solos and duets with Hvorostovsky himself. His new colleagues write ТРОГАТЕЛЬНУЮ гражданскую лирику со множеством многоточий... Прочтите, очень СТИМУЛИРУЕТ.

Sometimes... when you cry... no one sees your tears...
Sometimes ... when you are in pain... no one sees your hurt...
Sometimes... when you are worried... no one sees your stress...
Sometimes... when you are happy... no one sees your smile...
But try masturbating in the Wal-Mart parking lot just one fucking time and see how much attention you get.
Can someone please pick me up from the police station?

(Sometimes when you cry no one sees your tears ...
Sometimes when you're hurt, no one sees your pain ...
Sometimes when you are going through, no one sees your stress ...
Sometimes when you're happy, no one sees your smile ...
But try to masturbate in the parking lot in front of Walmart only one fucking times and you will see how much attention you get.
Someone please take me from the police station.)

feel that comes a series of stories of yet unexplored subculture.