There is a poppy in my office. Kesha is a rare ballagour. He does not speak, but does not cling. Funny, almost as a soldier. And then the door opens, two shy friends look in. So this feathered creature, who has never sat on the hand of anyone (unless you offer something delicious to eat), jumps to one of us on the shoulder and climbs to kiss. We are in shock, the girls grind, the poppy floods...
The boss crashes, begins to cover the cash with all sorts of words, the girls are still grinding... Well, he crashed and left. So the cache breaks down, catches the boss, in flight strikes him on the back and back into the office. We are riding, the girls are riding. This is how he is vengeful.
The pope knows who to stick to and who to avenge.)
Tomorrow I’ll go to Kashmir, thank you very much. I forgive even the swallowed hospital, the swallowed keyboard and the ripped film from the phone =))