I went to Moscow with a business partner. He is driving.

Preamble: he is already a man, married / divorced twice, from both marriages three daughters in total. And since he is a man, he takes his financial obligations seriously and the pretentious girls grow, they are not used to refusing anything. Everyone dreams of Oxford Stanford.
Papa, it must be said, dreams of merging them there, sympathizing with the one who will get them.

So, about what I’m fighting: it’s like a boy-major cutting him up on something sporty. What could a 47-year-old uncle with such a biography wish him?
“Let me burn you, shit!”