Born as a lumberjack
Amanchen evenings, when I step out the door and look into the starry night sky, I know what I am actually called: the lumberjack. More precisely, a lumberjack in Canada somewhere, in those endless forests, which are covered by thick layers of snow in winter. And then, when the snow gives way to lush green, I Strap on my ax in the forest and bring my full day's work. Sometimes I cry with a harsh voice "timbre" and everyone knows it. Then, when dawn comes, brings me back to my way of that hut on the edge of the forest, where my mum is already pending with the soy patties (I'm vegetarian). After dinner we watch together yet still (lumberjacks do not have many words) for a while in the night sky, then put us on the bearskins (shot by a friend, I can see no blood) and fall asleep happy. Yes ... that would be a life! And millions of men around the world have the same dream. No wonder Monty Python in the last century those filmed ballad , which clearly shows that loggers are usually solitary. - By the way, with great role-playing game characters recreated . - That way, women are also in our modern world in such nuclei shows men, this impressive display advertising .
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How do I love the sketch!
)
Yes, I can imagine and Eh .. that is, "Timberlake", "timbre" is the tone in singing
Boy, the timber industry but also something you have no idea of. When the first green shows, it is too late for felling trees. You're doing really well, when the thick snow, the traces of your Unimog (if you have one) blur.
Really? In the middle of winter? I find but a very unfavorable season. Then perhaps you should rather do in the Southern Hemisphere, say New Zealand? Then I had to move out in the summer ... that would be okay
You would probably like the
"Then, when dawn comes, brings me back to my way of that hut on the edge of the forest, where my mum is already pending with the soy patties (I'm vegetarian)."
The woman is on the hunt and schut at times, so everything that lives in the neighborhood!
Ok, men are simply knitted .. I'm just wondering the whole time, so it may require repeated after the middle of the wilderness of a postage stamp (timbre). Must be a male tick well. I've got it until now not honestly understand, but when I imagine the whole picture and sound, the scene perfectly for me as a viewer its charm '-)
Too bad there's already someone jumped on "timbre". I imagined that just prior to as nice as someone "timbre" calls and the rustling of the forest, the timbre changes ....