"I do not know if he ever has happened to you ..." but I and I woke up one morning with more of this candid song ringing in my street:
tururíiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii tururuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu
is here sharpener and sharpening:
-
-blade knives and scissors
-axes
-
machetes, all kinds of kitchen items, machines stiff
tururíiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii tururuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu
The pity is that it is losing the glamor of the profession: the type is not in the picture, and not going on a bike threadbare, but in a van, and it if was about to decimate my mind of old, the voice is a tape (tape what do I say? one gives!) that is repeated over and over again. In fact perpetuating loop N times, ending with what little was left poetic.
As a novelty, I am struck by the bunch of instruments, the inquisitor euphemistically called heuristics, for giving service, greatly emphasizing the "machines of cold meat" for his dark complexion clear.
elbichoonline 
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