Ms. Stokkefot and vacuums
I have always believed that housework is dangerous. I have scars on his right thumb after having wiped the dust off the sink in the bathroom this summer, the former port the emergency room after threw garbage , and I was more or less single-handedly to blame that on no plaster intact staff room to Menu Oslo City ran out last winter. Today
caused vacuums that I could see how the bottom part of the right index finger looks under the skin. And before you ask, I have not the faintest idea how I managed this feat. What I do know is that I shouted something like "Satan replied hælvettes shit pussy shit!" tears sprang and I jumped in the ring and shook his hand, until I checked the damage and said, relatively laughs, "ojsann, my God, it's only I can do it there," and showed it proudly to the little sister had to agree with the reasoning.
fingers are now bandaged with a little help from little sister (she must be a nurse and have pretty good luck living with me - she gets good exercise), blood, beer is washed away, and I've washed your hair with one hand. Flapped is that I at least have provided the examination paper, so it does not so much that the finger starts to throb if I write too much. In addition, I hereby a great excuse to postpone the writing of the next work demands at least a couple of days.
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