Bokelskere.no

My life was as grey as it gets. As grey as clouds, as grey as pigeons, as grey as concrete. And then, well, you came along. And made everything Technicolor.

There were no "mistakes" in life - just a series of random decisions that led to a series of random outcomes, good and bad.

"Clothes, to me, are like paint to an artist or words to a writer."

You're one of those people, I reckon, one of those people who'd be good at anything they put their mind to.

"Are you serious?"
"Deadly."

It was time for her to go. And, more importantly, it was time for him to stop loving her. He just wished someone could show him how.

The world was full of fit women; it was like a long roll of wallpaper with a pretty print on it. They all merged into one, but sometimes a girl jumped out of the wallpaper. Sometimes you thought about a fit girl after you'd stopped looking at her; sometimes you wondered about her when she wasn't there; sometimes you just wanted to stand and stare for as long as you liked, drinking in every last bit of her so you had some to take home with you. And when that happened you knew you were on to something special.

That was a good day that was, the day we met.

He didn't have a type. He knew what he liked when he saw it.