Tous les soleils Page #3

So what? An Icelandic colleague drinking

Every night Cotes du Rhone.

There is no grape grown in Iceland.

- I agree.

But wine or not,

Lithuanian is a piece of you.

What the hell, Dieter?

- That said, your Jean-Paul himself.

Did you know?

- What?

We go to the barn?

Whole or decompose?

I want two.

- You start with one.

Siddhartha, shut up at you.

Good name for a dog quiet.

He is in heat. Have you never?

Mom, Dad! The roof!

Everything collapses.

Do you have anything? Really?

Holy sh*t.

Keep your distance.

No, stay here.

Damn it.

I told the bar consumption

had to be replaced?

Gerhard he was still good.

- He's cook, not a bar expert.

You know that jerk a lot.

- You do it?

Calm down it.

They were dead.

- But they're not.

Shut up, Siddhartha. Now.

To burn the sausages.

- Oh...

The sausages?

Bunch of a**holes.

You bastards.

Mr. Bertaud?

Hello.

Alessandro Regazzoni

of 'Words Connect'.

Are you okay?

May I?

I'll read you some.

I have some books with me.

You can say what you want to hear.

Hot here. Do not you hot?

Would you like a glass of water?

A writer from my home region,

Northern Veneto.

Mario Rigoni Stern called him. He writes

about the war, memories...

and over the mountains.

Snow in January.

With his right arm

He relied on the sled.

His left arm was under his coat.

When he was hit

the ball...

he felt only a dry tap,

like a stone.

Yes?

Have you nothing more erotic?

Not with me. I'm sorry.

She has just fallen asleep.

- Hello, Yasmina.

She has a tough night.

You say I've been?

I'm back Thursday.

You do not look happy.

Yesterday we signed.

I am now a free woman.

Or a woman dumped.

It depends.

Who does not.

Dust everywhere.

L'Express... July 5, 2006.

Le Point... November 13, 2008.

Free magazines, free magazines.

Marie Claire... in April 2000.

Irina Regazzoni?

- That's me.

That's us. That's it, my daughter.

There is increasing distance. In all

what I was trying to say...

fold them closed.

Although she has grown physically hard,

it is of course a child.

A child in a woman's body.

A woman's body?

- Yeah, look.

What do you think, Irina?

Would you give us a show?

I do not know

if your daughter needs me.

But perhaps you yourself

talking with a colleague.

Often, parents have more problems

of puberty than the children themselves.

You're not serious.

You will find that she has grown, but

she has the body of a 12-year-old.

And you treat her like a baby.

I guess they mentally

and emotionally right for feasibility.

You yourself problems. They do not.

What nonsense.

Baloney.

Your opinions are just as outdated

the sheets in your waiting room.

Scandalous.

Day, beauty.

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