Dasha: Why the school doesn’t teach you to buy a little bit of dollars every month to be prepared for such a hernia.

Woddy: Every month at least 10% of the money received should be invested in something.

Dasha: That’s why they don’t teach this in school. But we know that moss grows on the north side.

Woddy: Maybe in six months, you’ll need it.

I go to the dentist. She was professionally frightened, accordingly, half of the face was anesthetized until the test state. I am afraid to bite my cheek, bite my tongue. Mimic is specific, speech is unrelated.

The third person stopped asking him to raise his hands, smile, name.

In the box, in the metro. Nice, of course, but I want a T-shirt with the inscription "It's not a stroke, it's a dentist."

I sit in a line to the endocrinologist, write out prescriptions for insulin. A full-fledged aunt, as in that post: “uncertainly-hulled outward,” and in the course of ores:

I am a diabetic, I have no line.

And, in a rough turn, he tries to break into the office. Naturally, it is inhibited, indicating that it is your turn, please go to the end.

But is sick! I have type 2 diabetes! I am a group 3 disabled. I am without a turn!

Then you will be after me. I’m also a disabled and a diabetic, but I’m a type one, I cried in, getting rid of Picabus.

Okay, I’ll be following you, still the 1st type.

Only she didn’t know that the whole line was made up of diabetics, and the last in that line was me.



Good sugar for all diabetics!

A new tenant arrived at the venue, a guy named Misha.

Previous apartment guests were accompanied - almost drunk in joy. With one hand followed, the other tears of happiness wiped. Thank God, we are gone, the catchers.

I started communicating with Misha:

“Misha, we don’t smoke in the entrance. All three do not smoke. And one too. Only cigarettes do not smoke either. Smoking in the loggia, please.

Mickey, reduce the noise. In the name of three nights. How quiet is it? So that the bed does not throw decibels.

What is this installation at the door? It was rubbish, I forgot to take it. You don’t want to smell at home, let it flow in the entrance. We understand. Please hasten to bring the bag to the bag.



I come down the stairs and listen to Misha speaking on the phone:

The house is fine, repair standards. With the neighbors, you are not lucky.

After the World Quarantine, in 9 months, a record number of babies will be born and we will call them coronals.

I have a companion. of Leha. In Lehe slightly more than two meters of growth. The athlete. The Fighter. He served far from in the army. In the 90s he managed to banditize - but survived, was not shot, not jailed. Tattoos like a Yakuza. Generally speaking, a frozen personality.

Leah met a woman. Relationships developed rapidly. Love and all things. When it came to the plans for the ZAGS, she admitted that she was married, and her husband was a sailor, now on the flight, but as soon as the divorce will return. Just a month to wait.

Plans remained plans - the husband made a surprise and returned the same evening.

About the return of the husband of his beloved Leha told with a broken eye and a broken lip. My imagination painted a lump of a monster, the marine man was imagined as a former pirate who sold his soul to Kthulhu... Well, what else to break? Leah told me:

A man two heads below me. and empty. The Lyse. You know, I was very ashamed. Imagine yourself in his place, smelled the mechanic in the oil for six months, you rush home with the guests, and you in the middle of the night the door is opened by some wretch dressed in a towel and in your shoes. In short, I put him in the mouth until he was tired.

The planes do not fly. Factories are not working. Greta, baby, are you happy?