Some women are like abstract paintings, even though you can't understand them, they are still beautiful.I do not know Peter. He followed me quite recently. I do not even presume to believe that he followed me because of the blog. With 258,000 likes on his facebook page it is evident that he doesn't require my paltry promo services. That being said, his pictures speak for themselves.
— Peter Klesken (@PeterKlesken) February 2, 2013
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| Pygmy boys play with an old decommissioned dugout canoe in a quiet sidearm of a river. Peter Klesken. Click the link below for the original photograph. http://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=10150660051756009&set=pb.269262571008.-2207520000.1364247576&type=3&theater |
I once read a book that stipulated, or postulated that there are only two sorts of women in the world: The sort that remain mysterious, no matter how long you might know them and the sort that are always straightforward.
Well... not quite straightforward, for it would be unbelievably foolish for one to assume that women are ever completely uncrooked and unwiley. No, one shouldn't go that far. Women are never straightforward but some are straightforward in spite of themselves. They fancy that every thought they have is completely private and that every action is undiscernable but they often fail to notice that internal cringes and what they imagine to be the subtlest looks of revulsion or lack of interest reveal themselves as spasms and contorted facial expressions that the performer is seemingly unaware of.
I think that my friend refers to the former, for the latter are so common that they do not merit prose so beautiful. There's hardly anything abstract about them. That's not to say that they have no merit, for men do get tired of solving unsolvable puzzles and wondering if the seductress from the night before will still be there when eyes open in the morning.
Happy Days,
Afam
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