Zalakomár, Mozi, Komárváros

On my blue tour, running from the sight of the Zalakomár ESE football field, I would juggle into the literary corner of Komárváros on Ady Endre Street, when my feet were rooted to the ground like a large sycamore tree barking in the bark of the Cinema (s). To then snatch up on the movie information board on the wall of the building. Because in this place I was impressed by the picture of the Cinema on Ady Endre Street in Komalakváros, Zalakomár, and I tried to spice up tonight's program from a distance, but I didn't see anything. But a Zoom would have been nice! Well, what do you want to know about the Komárno Cinema, but you never dared to ask ?: What is being projected today? Komárno Rome? to rock myself to sleep with Fellini on the crested nylon waves? Are you mad? what a careful spectator mumbles unforgettably, chewing, spitting, toothpicking, leaning back in a toning chair auditorium. Then, when the film breaks, it whistles loudly or freezes into the skirt-pulling smile that pulls her out of her panties into the dark-tapi-smac. The sleepy cinematographer wakes up to the whistling whistle: Well, what's up! and stepping into the audience, he tramples on the beer boiling in Kőbánya. He then re-strings the film while hissing interdental-leaved cognate words. And the film continues to flutter, and in the gojkomitics of the western colt, the hands rest in the lap of the waving breasts-friendly girlfriend. Then, after the evening matinee, the crowd snuggles up satisfactorily, pinching Kossuth's barefoot cigarette to the top of his mouth, letting criticism and facit through his smoke-filtering teeth to the window of the liquor store next door. But for those who only have the long brewing time left, go through the little ABC-J, which carries its beautiful pink and concrete-dropped shape. But my thoughts run down because there is no Cinema for the future CLOSED today. The cinema in Komárno, Ady Endre út, give us our everyday film after football, at least in thought.