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Terry walked down Bay Street, with her purple rain coat and
her funny brown hat, and mingled. All the deli owners waved
at her as she passed, all thinking what a beautiful little
woman she is. Their customers stopped in the middle of a
DELI-BITE, just to glance at her walking.
"She's so beautiful," said one fat man, while hanging to his
sandwich with all his might. She started to run. The sight
of her hopping breasts was too much for some people, and
they fainted into the sweetest most pornographic dreams.
Police squad cars smashed into Indian yellow cabs, street
preachers thought the thoughts of sinners, dogs sat down and
women became lesbians at the sight of her. Traffic lights
turned purple, purple turned traffic lights, guns got
disarmed, fire broke off and water turned on at the miracle
that was her jumping breasts.
Her sweat ALONE brought enough happiness and joy into the
world, that even the middle east war just stopped. The
oracles praised her and the queen worshiped her. She was all
that. And she was mine.
On her way to the airport, she stopped at the video store to
pick up "The Crow" I & II.
She ran and ran, with minimum stops (actually, the video
stop was the only one), until she got to Toronto airport. As
she walked through the airport doors, just when the speakers
shouted to all the sinners to put their lights on, and by
the way, TLV 337 just arrived, I landed.
The plane was AWFUL. Sick kids and their sane(in) mothers,
fucking puke all over the place, ELAL food sucks, and the
flight attendants were UGLY, "with a capital "U" ". It was
seven hours in the courtesy of Hell.
"And get me my Anti Christ, you BASTARD." Some insane girl
yelled at me. She was sitting right across the aisle from
me, and was viciously strapped to her chair, in a white
strapping jacket. Her big black (eyes) sanity keeper told me
she yells at everybody who's called Yoshi. That gave me the
creeps. Ronis are horrible.
Anyway, when I got off that plane, it was like being jacked
out of a piece of shit by a hungry vulture. Terrible. There
were hundred thousands, millions even, all shouting and
screaming and crying and arguing and beating and buying and
selling and running and reading (out loud) and watching (out
loud) and stuff.
It was heaven of the DEAF. Interesting though. My sarcastic
eyes received a lot of funny things. An airport, while full,
is the living home of pranksters. Within pocket pickers,
thieves, crippled, Arabs and extremely tall black people, I
even saw a guy who takes great pleasure in throwing fruit at
people, aiming for the head or crouch. If he hit someone, he
ran off. He's the reason (well, kind of.) for my first
interception with Terry. He ran, ghostly, foggy speed,
between people, until his angle of sight fell on Terry. She
was so beautiful he just couldn't resist. If he were normal,
he'd kiss her right on sight. He wasn't. I saw him, with
some fear, I might add, raising a BIG APPLE, and, like in
slow motion, throwing the apple at Terry. The apple hit her
right in the leg. You could SEE all her blood draining
itself all the way up to her brain, her eyes glimmering with
Anger, her cute little mouth twisted in rage, her hands
opening and closing, her legs shaking, her knee starts to
turn purple-black from the apple hit. I saw all that in
three seconds.
Cause after that time limit, she quickly picked up the
apple, took a pin out of her hair, a long one, shoved it
right into the apple, and threw it. Actually, you couldn't
SEE her throw the apple, but one millisecond it's in her
hand, the other millisecond it's not, my logical conclusion
is-she threw it. It departed, I swear to Shiva, in light
speed at least, right into that guy's ass. He flew 4m' in
the air, and landed, then skated some 4m' on the floor, and
stopped, screaming of pain, since that pin was in the apple
in his ass. Terry ran towards him, like a raging bull, like
an eight wheeler, like an Orca Whale, and kicked the apple
deeper into this guy's a-hole, MAKING him puke blood and
organs, and one of his eyes popped out.
"DON'T FUCK WITH ME," she screamed, then stared at me and

She started running towards me, cute as a little bunny
rabbit, her concept of -raging bull- is no more, just pure.
cuteness, 200m', 100m', 50-20-10-5-2 and then, she fulfilled
my most secret and most great dream that involved her, and
jumped on me, from 2m' length, just jumped on me, and that's
it. I hugged her as hard and long as I could, 'till I heard
her back crack. Her butt was the finest butt alive(?).
As I stopped hugging her, I paused to take a glance at my
surroundings. The dreadful looking man was moaning painfully
behind a curtain of people, changing all the time because
people watched him and then retired to a quiet little corner
where they could throw up. The tranquil sound of planes
coming and going, footsteps all over the place, and that
good'ol speaker, saying that if we won't buy Marlboro now
we'll probably die. And he's probably right even. As I look
at all the TOTALLY meaningless objects that surrounds me,
the only meaningful thing in this god forsaken country hugs
me again, harder then before, lover then before, and adds to
it a BIG BITE in the neck. The kind that makes you horny as
a hound dog. I decide to do something about it, and I
charged her with a mighty kiss. As we finish (it took a lot
of time, it's 4:30 am, and empty airport all around us) she
smiles at me, pulling me to the cab that was waiting for us
for over five hours now, hunking like a son of a bitch.
Damn, I LOVE CANADA.    

היצירה לעיל הנה בדיונית וכל קשר בינה ובין
המציאות הנו מקרי בהחלט. אין צוות האתר ו/או
הנהלת האתר אחראים לנזק, אבדן, אי נוחות, עגמת
נפש וכיו''ב תוצאות, ישירות או עקיפות, שייגרמו
לך או לכל צד שלישי בשל מסרים שיפורסמו
ביצירות, שהנם באחריות היוצר בלבד.
בבמה מאז 28/3/01 22:45
האתר מכיל תכנים שיתכנו כבלתי הולמים או בלתי חינוכיים לאנשים מסויימים.
אין הנהלת האתר אחראית לכל נזק העלול להגרם כתוצאה מחשיפה לתכנים אלו.
אחריות זו מוטלת על יוצרי התכנים. הגיל המומלץ לגלישה באתר הינו מעל ל-18.
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