Yesterday I was in a cultural shock.
I was on a half empty bus. Everyone is sitting, I stand comfortably with a booklet, clinging to the window. A guy of decent appearance comes in, stands next to me and immediately lets "Sheptune". Quietly but very efficiently. The surroundings of the room were so wide that the eyes were blinded. The man obviously at lunch snacked fermented cabbage with fish, or even worse. And I am so reluctant to change the place of dislocation... I think - well, I will hold my breath, and it will be ventilated... x#y. I breathe, it’s here again. I think: well, the poisonous gas can not dissipate for a few minutes! The second stop is already going like during the First World War in the clouds of phosphene, mla. So, this padla adds slowly... I understand that it’s time for me to change the dislocation. I close the book... and here suddenly comes the illumination: fucking, but this guy is not a meteorism - it is such perfumes!!!! Shut up! The perfume! Therefore, it does not disperse and smells permanently!
Here is the apophysis of misanthropy! I will suffer too, but you will all die! Or does he like it?