My first morning in Sydney started with a nightmare. Right under the windows there were monstrous, penetrating cries... Having caught yesterday’s passages and running out in trousers to the balcony of my first floor, I saw several opposite species of birds who, as it turned out, were roaring on the lawn in front of the hotel. And the women confused by my appearance brought onto the plates of these creatures the cut fruit.
from the barracks on them. I suggested to women.
“Good Moning, Mr,” the ladies said, smiling advertising.
“Cucabarra,” said one, pointing to the bird.
“Cucabarra hasn’t eaten well in the morning,” I noticed, then, stretching my pants and a false smile on the cowbarra’s angry forehead, I went out again to the ladies, smoking a cigarette.
and Noah! Noah could! - the women and something like, say, cocabare is harmful tobacco smoke! And so every day, at five in the morning, the exhausting cry of the cowbarra, and the unhappy sleeping women, obeying the instinct of pity, bring her the fruits prepared from the evening, not forgetting to greet me: "Bongur, messie!"... She used to drive around the city and eat snakes. He catches the snake by the head, rises up high with it to the sky and throws it on stones. Then she realized that it was easier to extract food, pressing a disgusting scream on the consciousness of the Australians, and almost completely settled in the city. Therefore now in the bush of snakes - no place to walk!