A couple of times I sent my wife and son to the sea, because I didn’t have a
I worked on vacation or I pretended I didn’t work because I didn’t work.
My first holiday in Turkey I still remember.
by Sorrento. Well and so "the child needs the sea" - "I can’t" - "and we
What to do? Why should a child suffer?" - "To ask, fly
I would like to work with you".
Both times were blessed, I’m not afraid of this word, two weeks.
And here one time I, already strongly subdued, broke through "to arrange
Yellow" It was not long before the family returned.
On the other hand, on the third day after I took them to the DMD on the plane.
Something broke up and that’s all. I really wore a few hours.
The apartment. All of. From and to, including the toilet. After every drink.
Drink (and I did not interrupt this process) I opened up something
another corner with dirt / dust / bark. Why and why I did this,
I can't explain it because I don't remember the past + drank at the end
very much.
The apotheosis of my general cleaning was a completely unexpected visit of a maid.
She, you know, is a wonderful and sweet person, we have her with her.
Excellent experience, tested by thousands of times. But here with such
She just didn’t know me, and as if I didn’t have this one.
The sides. That is, in her understanding I and the banal washing of dishes are things.
It is incompatible, and in fact it is. I did not hear the arrival of the witch.
The music sounded loud.
When she entered, opening with my key, I was in a knee-armpit position washing the house.
Floor in the children's room. She did not expect to see what she saw.
The whole apartment shone. I am, in some cowards, drunk, somewhat shy and
Hichika himself under his nose finished his "last smear", pulled off the cloth in
The last time and (here is just the pause between the songs on the record) released in
The broadcast loudly what, sadly, made me amused. Here in our archive.
Families have differences.
Did I say something a-la "in Natashka ohuieje when he returns, gygas",
Would it be "the witch would see it".
I think both options were good to complement that.
The picture of the surgeon that the aunt watched. She just sat on a pubic in the hallway.
And she cried out, making some squeezed sound.
Well here I am, the gallantness itself – "hello, Marnikolovna! Let us s
We will drink from you, and you will not drink from me, and you will not drink from me.
I remember she was very pleased. I also remember her.
The eyes. They said everything.