Well actually I want to talk about nipples.

I love nipples. I think they are part of man's perpetual amazement:

There are small ones, hard to get you finger onto.
Long ones, like some kind of missile protuding far out from the breast.
Fat ones, like large pancakes covering just as a continent the surface of the world.
Erectile ones (i like a lot), that are sensitive to even breathing on it.
Dark ones, as dark as the lust of a incredible night with a person sweating with desire.
Hairy ones, yep. Thats where the amazement is the strongest. Choose your partners!
Ones that love getting nibbled upon.
Ones that have to be kissed gently and carressed like a small loving animal.

Gosh i could go on ranting like that forever! I say: give good attention to what you have and you might get rewarded accordingly.

The footsteps resonated through the white luminous hall. Growing louder and louder. John turned a corner and his white blouse spun lightly through the air immitating his movements with a small delay. As he passed by the window something shiny reflected from his left hand. It was a syringe.
Now he started to run as if something in his mind had ticked him to enact swiftly; as if time was a valuable thing that should not be lost. At the end of the hall he entered a green door on his right.
John had always been a friendly man, never losing temper or focus. His wife, Helen, was as beautiful as a nymph and they had been happily married for the last five years. He took good care of her taking her out to the park for strolls and cooking surprise dinners when she least expected it. My friendship with him seems eternal now when I look back. We had met in Highschool and kept our friendship bond strong since then. Him always participating with enthousiasm to my crazy ideas or night escapades.
However now with his extremely large syringe filled with green bubbles he seemed preoccupied. The lines which he never had on his forehead seemed deep. Perhaps this science project he had signed up on last year wasnt such a good thing. Not only was the lab far but it needed him to stay away from home all week.

And, now with a determined face, he raised the syringe, the tip of the needle trembling lightly, and thrusted it into a cat's back. The cat trembled and let out a little shriek. Which was strange since it had been dead since a couple of days.

So here I am typing off on my computer under the outrageous heat and humidity. Sometimes I really wish I could get frozen into an iceberg as to escape from this maddening situation.

I keep getting wicked dreams where people have murderous intentions towards me. Then I wake up in my sweat and still half in wonderland see shadows escaping away into the corners of the room. My heart still pounding in my ears and fear having taken a grip of me I hesitate to set foot afloor, like a child scared of having the boogeyman grab it from underneath the bed. Outside the darkened window I can see a few skyscrapers blinking at the night. Maybe a few cats are out as well. Prowling and doing the usual cat things I guess.
The bedcloth sticks to my body. Having had enough I get out of bed and walk naked to the shower. Flicking on the light brings soaring pain as I stagger backwards covering my eyes.
"Gotta change that light bulb." I tell myself for the thousands time.

The water is cold and refreshing. I wonder what time it is. Usually when I wake up the it's between 2 and 4 a.m. I can feel the heat seeping out of my body. Lovely! If only one could live under the shower... Then again it would be too convenient.
The sound of rushing water sooths all the nightmarish visions from my mind. I cup my hands in front of my face and let the water fill them up before splashing my face with it.
The pipes behind the wall rumble and give out a long prolonged shriek. I cut off the water. "Thats it for tonight" i tell the showerhead. Perhaps if I would compliment it more often it would work better. My mind spins off into thoughts and I conclude that I should try to be more polite in my day to day environment.

The bathroomfloor is cold and my wet feet don't seem satisfied and recommend caution. I step forward to take a look in the mirror. I just have time to see a blurry figure disappear before hitting the ground. Now my whole body is feeling the cold floor. At least nothing will bother me now.

MrStrange is an alter ego creation to satisfy my desires of becoming a great english writer. Of course some of you might know me from somewhere else; but i'll leave that one out for you to guess.

Why all of a sudden? Well I recently took contact with some old time school friends of mine who don't know how to read french. So i thought I might give them a quick run through of different events going on.

Another reason is that I don't want to ruin the reputation I have made for myself from NoFrag. The asylum being the place for the rejects and all... low lives with nothing to do.

So welcome MrStrange! May this be a joyous adventure.