East of Toronto, a small quiet corner away from the bustle of the city (well I guess in summer we must walk on towels) where I could see myself running in the morning before to go to work. Besides, is not it the ultimate kiffe to say “I live on the beach”?
With Sophie and Marie we went on expedition to the Beaches with the idea of breakfast peinardo on the beach … Loupé. The seagull (and the wasp later) were right to us, we “repackaged it is weighed” all that and we are going to stand on a bench. Fail number 2 since the same gull followed us. I swear. The most seagull seagull in the history of the seagull, little hunting in the soul the seagull. When my sister told me she was probably going to chop my scone on the fly I decided to squeeze my camp rapido. Must say that I have a whole history with seagulls trying to steal my lunch. It is not she who will ensure the survival of the species anyway I can tell you.
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