He was a born loser. Always have. His career in this regard began in kindergarten.
No matter what game he had just started a little later, he sat alone in a corner. Either sold him the other children, or he did it with his clumsiness the toy to wreck.
home waiting, no consoling hug him. His mother was Hypochonderin, was usually in bed with one of her imaginary illnesses, even with the best friend of his father, who then decided to drink himself to death, which he made in just under four years. Shortly after his mother died, vain sheer disease, had missed the only real doctors.
the rest of his childhood was spent in a home. And he still managed to survive the years there unscathed. Like a chameleon, he became one with the inconspicuous wallpaper of the home room.
The worst thing was that it also corresponded to the outwardly cliché of the eternal loser.
His thick glasses and pimples were all that we became aware of his face. He was thin and angular, had always felt a gust of wind would be enough to overthrow him.
He had large feet and spinning finger, protruding ears and bad teeth. God and the Genes had not been very gracious to him when it came to his appearance.
Some of these poor creatures were then blessed at least with a brilliant mind, but even then, non-existent. become
adult he had a boring job in a factory, a boring flat in a small town and a boring life.
In between, it may not believe it, there were also women in his life.
Actually two, the others were not, for which he had paid.
The One was really nice, loved him with all my heart and it was a good woman until she was taken away from lung cancer.
The other was a cursed beast, which he admitted not only the home but also the bank account empty. Oh yes, they took his car with as they otherwise would have to carry all that stuff.
The years went by, he sorted good every day for eight hours on the size and screw thread, his glasses were thick and so does his belly. Only his hair was less.
Eventually we sorted it out and he lost his job. And not with his very exciting past life, it seemed impossible to find a new.
the first time in his miserable life, he was furious. He decided to get drunk and went to the nearest restaurant. There he sat, staring straight ahead and drank a beer at a time. Eventually he took the decision to put his insignificant life to an end. have been unnoticed, he left the shabby pub, walked through the city, watched the traffic, and when a lorry close enough, he walked into the street ... ... ...
Everyone else would be gotten for his worldly suffering redeemed, would in the Hell burn, or while waiting to be reborn as an ant.
But such happiness was not our losers.
The truck driver instead drove to our friend, rather than a traffic sign.
And the moral of this story ......
need when you lose money, you want to retire from the world ...
then you can buy NEN killer who then shoots up to the winds ......
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