Memories

Oh I'm a terrible person
I was in their restaurant
And I left a tip only when I returned
Because I was caught and shamed
And they forced it.
Yes, it was a test.
The one who was shaming turned out to be not smart enough to understand such gestures.
Tips? Well, you know, fear and hatred, such things.
What a bummer.

They owned this place together
And they fed the townspeople meat at a loss.
They had amazing generosity and menu.
But this ideal couple had no idea about income.
Then he killed her and cut her with a meat cleaver.
Her last post was about how she wanted some kind of lemon perfume.
Something that would smell like citrus.

I know he regretted it terribly later,
But it happened.
Every time I take out some lemon perfume,
then I remember that woman.
It was passion, no doubt.
The butcher and his wife - lemon is an excellent seasoning for meat. Is not it?

She had a presentiment, perhaps, and this was her answer in advance.
Then pour some lemon juice on me, dear.
Oh they were beautiful, both blonde and brown-haired. Spectacular couple.
You turned around as they passed by on the street.
Well, he kept it on the balcony while the police questioned him.
And he asked the police where my wife was?

Citrus perfume always smells a little like meat to me.
What is this? The scent for her? yes fragrance review.
She would have liked him too.
Passion and lemon. No, I paid the tip
no, I specifically came back and called the waitress
and pointed three times to a handful of coins and apologized three times for forgetting.
There was no one to appreciate my humor.

It wasn't long before this tragedy happened.
It was necessary to call the owners,
Maybe it would distract them and make them laugh.
No, well, there’s even more to it, waiter, you recorded this, didn’t you?
You guys have a great restaurant, can I not give you a tip?
Yes coupon, I want a coupon. Amazingly tasty meat.
scent for her?
Smells are an insidious thing for those who know many stories.

What? Is there no lemon in this scent pyramid at all?
It's strange, but I smell things in a completely different way.
They would probably like this smell.
These are just Moscow tales from a past life.

Sorry, my favorite smells are just gasoline and shoe polish.
I can't admit it, I can only write it.
Smells are generally intimate preferences.
I love car exhaust, for example.
There are many gourmets who will no longer be able to talk about it.
And you would have been killed in Europe for this non-standard eco.
I know these pedestrians ride scooters.

But lemon and meat, yes, passionate love with murder.
There are no these notes in the perfume pyramid, but they are there.
I do not know how.
This bitter story was in this bottle.
I didn't come up with anything myself.
Wukong, bear witness, am I lying?
Never.

Ouija!? What the hell is a memoir? Don't we have anything else to do?
Just this smell.
It doesn't have the sharpness of the lemon, we were wrong.
She wanted a brighter, crazy scent.
Butcher's love. This is a special aesthetics, no doubt about it.
Poetry in general.
Why ask me how I know this?
If I don't know it.

Ouija keyboard, your purpose is different.
Click on, we need to unblock the accounts.
That's the thing, I don't like these cons.
Is the smell sensual?
Don't get distracted, we've already told this sad story.
Well, not Shakespeare, of course. This man may still be in prison.

Dear ones, if we knew, we would pay three times, ten times.
But you didn’t understand business at all and fed everyone just like that.
Weegee, stop crying, don't get distracted from your work.
Otherwise they will also remember us by our smell.
What else can there be gasoline and whiskey?
No Ouija, I smell like roses and perfume
and you're just cheap plastic.

“..if, then, I would make artificial flowers, scent them with perfume and sell..”
Exactly!
Can we see further? And I doubt it.
Ouija! Stop crying.

No, these stupid vaginas smell like a port market -
their love is not selfless. This is completely different.
The Butcher and His Wife is a classic scent.
Lemon and leather.
And meat.
Rhyme?
Well, of course.