Day as day. I read Bach. I got a funny quote, and I laughed a little, went out to smoke in the entrance. The mood is good, I smoke and quietly chick, remembering the quote. The grandmothers at the entrance strangely touched me. In the poem...
In an hour the door rings. I open – menta, and next to them one of the entrance grandmothers. The dialogue:
Myth is he?
Grandma: Yeah he is! Smoking and Hichikal.
Myth: The young man. Please show the cigarettes you smoked.
And I was on the melli and the third day smoked whiteworm. And the situation was finally worsened by the fact that I began to ride on the floor and roast like a horse on a hemp field.
c) MaratMS