I came here to dig potatoes. Having loaded the last bag in the bag, my wife and I went to the bus stop. There are local ones. They noticed us, they fit. Well there, like, there are sighs, all that, classic, shorter. Fighting with them is reluctant. Well, I, like Gordon, went down the elevator to their level and said, “Brother, you are what, you mark yourself first, you are who? I am Vitya Kalina, and who are you?” (the wife’s surname is Kalina))) A man with respect: “Aaa, I heard, I’m sorry, brother.” My wife now calls me that.
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