The gas. Go to a club with friends. Well, we drank a couple of cocktails, danced, took a calcium, and returned home in a taxi. I think I have rested well, positively, all cool.
At home, my mom looks at me and says “I don’t know what you’re doing there!” You smell, you smell. Per you do not know with whom!"
and bleak. I did not have a rest, but a sad shit. I can’t justify my mother’s suspicions.