Lately I've had my clones a bit abandoned. Despite being eight carefully Mamluks seem to need constant companionship and attention as if they were children. When left alone, always end up arming.
Last Friday, for example, the mayor and his team (some men People's Party that at that stretch the neck, close their noses and wrinkle their noses look very dignified and very high birth) celebrated the end of the pharaonic reforms in my neighborhood inviting all neighbors to bleeding. Fortunately (or so he thought) I could not attend because he had to work, however, upon returning home I could not avoid running into a crowd of neighbors, police officers and councilors of all stripes. I have enough phobia of crowds but I try to face them as if you were blind speed amid a concert Napalm Death , so I made my way with rudeness, while retaining the temperance and dignity.
What was my surprise when, less than three meters from the portal, I get to see my eight pseudoclones completely drunk, semi naked (one of them was at all), singing hymns and phalanx Carlist, pissing telephones in and fraternizing with the mayor, his wife and my upstairs neighbors. My naked clone discussed with the secretary of social affairs which was the best way to clarify a bit the skin of the scrotum, quite obscured now. Another clone (which had a black eye) was pinching the ass of the children grown up while encouraging the neighborhood in full to make a burping contest.
You can take care of the bochornazo I felt. I promised to end the eight of the most terrible way to go up as home. However, once I had them all before and I could hear their cries, their pleas and apologies, once I looked through the eyes of heart I could feel his loneliness, his dependence, his restlessness, once I understood their needs not do anything but try to solve them.
and behold, after convincing her once she got home and becoming aware of the mess, I managed to clone the woman of my life, my Alice, so that every one of them could enjoy their company without my celled too. My sweet Alice, each day more beautiful, always willing to sacrifice for me.
I am sure that my clones will now be more happy, responsible and peaceful. Too bad the cloning process are seeing slightly troubled by a series of technicalities and the bodies of each pair are merged into eight two-headed creatures and hermaphrodite whose sexual organs do not totally fit in the most optimal way! (Of course, there has been a slight lightening of the scrotal region which will certainly make the delights of Madame Secretary for Social Affairs and her husband, that man so tacky that only talk about hounds, whores and the breakup of the unity of our nation.)
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