Sunday and Sunday (17:55:19 15/04/2009)
I found a historical document, my final, graduate work on Oblomov at the end of the 11th grade)) the last of only two paragraphs is as follows:
I would not take Oblomov to bite, but he loved to eat, like a real salty Russian man. He had a taste. He had a good taste. He was a gurman. He loved meat, and he didn’t like meat either. I like the quality of it, because I like to eat it myself. And wine he loved to drink, and quasa. I loved smelling tobacco. He had a tobacco shop, and when he was a guest, Oblomov licked the cover of the tobacco shop with the tip of his tongue, and stretching the guest as usual said: "Listen." But he didn’t just have a tobacco. He still had a dress. Oblomov loved the dress and everywhere in it one and went. I walked and smelled tobacco. And meat eaten. And so all day.
The Refrigerator (17:58:10 15/04/2009)
and ROFL
The Refrigerator (17:58:22 15/04/2009)
ROFL ROFL ROFL ROFL ROFL ROFL ROFL ROFL ROFL
Monday and Sunday (17:58:34 15/04/2009)
I killed the puppy first.
Sunday and Sunday (17:58:47 15/04/2009)
Exam and Exam)
The Refrigerator (18:01:47 15/04/2009)
:D
The Refrigerator (18:01:51 15/04/2009)
Yippidy yi yi yippity yay
The refrigerator (18:01:53 15/04/2009)
) ) )