Hello, my friends,
you can not you imagine what happened here is bad. This morning I woke up with a very bad headache in my doll crib. The door was locked and when I shook it, Mom yelled angrily through the door that I now have two weeks highest office arrest. They complained also about the "evil rocker friends," I would have invited home, and have probably all played loud songs and singing along (she said, was somehow a Häwwi-metal song from Danzig: "Mother, tell your children not to walk my way, tell your children not to hear my words, what they mean, what they say ..."). And to me. I play it on my tape recorder just "Mama" by Heintje or, at worst, when I'm really, really angry, "Mama" by Genesis.
What do I now only? In my youth room all the walls are sprayed with graphite, as well as clothes are made of black leather on the ground. Here, my chest that I got at 5 years is totally chopped up and parts are burned on my children's carpet. On my wardrobe hanging pornographic pictures from the penultimate Otto catalog, all women with very provocative overalls! If mom sees that, then I'm dead! My goodness! Are these cigarettes, chewing gum on my desk? I need to immediately clean up, excuse me!
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