Masterpieces of literary creativity - page 2
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Ай-яй-яй! Нельзя так с авторами... ))
I apologise for the fact that all my topics
Are turning out to be some kind of narcotic.
It will be over very soon,
In the meantime, I have these conversations in my head.
-How's it going? Happy?
-What? -I don't know yet.
-Well, it's still weird... -It's early...
-When?
-Well, about an hour and a half ago...
-It's early, yes. But very soon. Have you tried it before?
-Well, sure I have.
-And these? -No.
-No. -No, these aren't. They must be new.
-You ate a whole one? -Yeah.
-Yeah...
-You idiot... -Toukis said it would take three days.
And tomorrow is your birthday?
-I know. Fuck, thanks. I'm already regretting it myself.
-So what are you gonna do?
-I'm gonna ask you what to take to make you feel better.
-You know, I'll tell you what:
There's nothing that's just gonna overpower that power.
-And the lemon?
-Gon!
-That's right! And the vodka?
-Will you drink a litre?
-I can't even take a sip!
-You see? Then rest for now.
-Rest? -Are you kidding? I'm not having fun at all.
-What's wrong?
-Well, I'm kind of disgusted. I mean, it feels good.
But there's kind of a lack of positivity.
-How's that?
-How? -Fuck, like this! Try it, you'll find out.
-You think I'm a fucking asshole?
-А.. You mean me?
-Yeah. -Right.
-Oh, fuck. Thanks, man. For defrosting me.
Wait, by the way. Who are you?
-What?
-Who are you?
-Who am I?
-Yes.
-I'm the psycho who lives inside you
...who's gonna help you for the next two or three days.
-А... Well, that's awesome, then. Oh, man,
If only it wasn't this birthday.
I feel like I'm getting fucked up.
-It's gonna be a fun night.
I'll be honest with you. I've tried a lot of things.
¶ and most of it I've enjoyed ¶
But i wouldn't wish it on an enemy. Not even the most evil.
To be as turned on as I was back then.
Open yourself to no one in your sorrow
♪ Don't put your hands to the letter and your lips to the silence ♪
Take the trouble without splashing along your whole life
In your soul you may be wrong, but do it.
What's the use of complaining, empty complaint and no science?
What's the point of being over the line, over the pain of separation?
Let no one around know that it was tight.
Neither friend nor foe knows,
Nor your dear friend.
***
A friend of mine once asked me to marry him.
He brought a bride to a bachelor's house.
He taught me love as a lesson,
♪ But it didn't work out so well ♪
♪ She wasn't that pretty ♪
♪ And not as pretty as she was embarrassed ♪
"Without a frankness, without an impulse.
She was my destined one.
We didn't drink cognac, we drank coffee.
I didn't look the bride in the eye
As if I'd been insulted
I, her and I together
And me, always waiting for a fairy tale,
Remembering this miserable evening,
I don't believe in love by precept,
I don't believe in happiness from a cheat sheet.
Song lyrics Pencil - Conversation lyrics,
"The Coward" (Eduard Asadov)
A ball of moon under a starry lampshade
The moon glowed in the sleepy town.
The gloomy embankment was laughing.
A lad with a sporty figure.
And a girl of frail stalk.
The boy and the girl, a fragile stalk,
The boy told me in passing
"How he once swam across the sea in a tempest
He swam across the gulf.
How he wrestled with the devil's current,
And how the storm threw its lightning bolts.
And she looked with admiration
Into brave, hot eyes...
And then, sighing, she said softly:
- "I would have died of fright there.
You know, I'm a terrible coward,
I wouldn't swim in a thunderstorm for nothing!
The boy smiled indulgently,
¶¶ He pulled the girl up slowly ¶¶
¶ and he said ¶ - "You're just adorable.
You sparrow soul!
He lifted her chin with his finger
And kissed her. The bridge swayed,
The wind sang... And to her tonight
The world was all music and stars!
# So in the night on a frowning promenade
Through the sleepy town
# And a boy with an athletic figure
And a girl, a fragile stalk.
And when, after passing a streak of light,
In the shade of slumbering acacia trees,
"The two shoulder-length, dark silhouettes
Rising suddenly out of the ground.
And the first, with a hoarse grunt: - Stop, chickens!
The way is closed, and no more nails!
Rings, earrings, watches, money
All you've got, on the barrel, now!
And the other, blowing smoke in his moustache,
watched, as, with excitement, the brown-haired
"A man of athletic proportions...
"He began to unbuckle his watch in a hurry.
And, satisfied, apparently, with his success,
The red-haired man hummed: - "Hey, goat!
What are you so puffed up about?! - And the beret with a laugh.
He pulled it over the girl's eyes.
The rest was like a grenade explosion:
The girl ripped off her beret
And she said: - Bastard! You damned fascist! -
She burned him like fire.
- You've got some nerve, don't you? Liar, you bastard!
You're the enemy! You drink people's lives! -
Your voice is torn, fierce and ringing:
- Is the knife in your pocket? I don't care about the knife!
For murder, I'll have to face the wall.
But if I fall from the wound,
Remember, I'll live, I'll know!
Wherever you are, I'll find you!
And she looked him firmly in the eye.
He was confused: - All right... Hush, thunder... -
And the other one mumbled: - "To hell with them! -
And the figures disappeared around the corner.
The moon's disc, on the milky way
"and the moon disc came out and strode across the road
And looked thoughtfully and sternly
Down on the sleeping town.
Where, without a word, on the frowning embankment
Walked on, gravel rustling noisily,
A boy with an athletic figure
And a girl with a "weak nature",
"Coward" and "sparrow soul".
Pencil patriotic
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7qZuVvkgEEk&feature=player_embedded
So far the best there is
https://www.mql5.com/go?link=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RvXeZXvch8w&feature=related
This one 's in the car in a Hither and Thither state.
Especially when you go around a Genevagen on the left.
https://www.mql5.com/go?link=http://karandash-production.ru/download/music/41
There's no Nazism or nursery rhymes for the "baldies" here - people were in their 25s (30s became)
so no teenagers...
orthography sucks ,,,, 2-3 times you have to rewrite .... the russian language textbook for 4th-5th grade.
The strangeness of love
I love you with the phone button,
¶ I love you morning and noon ¶
♪ I love you all day long, to the point of laughter, to the point of moaning ♪
♪ I love you like Blen-da-honey paste ♪
Bring the birch to my bedroom,
I'll love you on a log,
And then in my bedchamber
We'll have a feast of flesh on the wall.
I love you on a piano lid,
♪ On the polish, sliding around ♪
I love you on the roof of a shop
# Even if passersby shout, "You can't!"
♪ Your dress has pins instead of buttons ♪
¶ and you took it off in front of everybody ¶
The sand by the sea got into our swimming trunks,
And a sea crab bit our heels.
I love you till I'm dizzy,
I love you so much I'm ready to gnaw you salty,
I love you like Ivasi and biscuits,
I love you to the point of weakness, to the point of agony, to the point of nausea.
Why do you stare at me so dejectedly?
I'll give you the answer to your mute question,
Try not to marry me, my dear friend,
Because I have primary toxicosis.
And here's my favourite.
____________________________________________
Rumbling. Anton, standing at the tram stop, contemplated the approaching line, beyond which there was only blackness and presumably solid water.
His hair was sticking out electrifyingly in different directions. As if by the wave of a conductor's wand they reached out in unison for the glittering serpents.
It's fucked! Nice one! Blinding!
He wasn't even thirty. He wasn't even scared. Total liberation. Fucking fate...
"Nope," she refused. The teacher said not to run. It will come later.
- Cowardly? Are you giving up? - he taunted her and laughed insultingly.
- Here's another one, - she snorted and rushed from her place to the hill.
Then they sat in a group, punished, under the supervision of a nanny, looked out the window at how others were walking and sulked at each other and at the teacher.
“I told you it would hit,” she muttered.
- I would definitely overtake you - he pouted. - You ran wrong. I didn't prepare...
- And I bet I read you faster? he suggested to her.
"Ha ha ha," she accepted. - They will check the reading technique and see. If I'm faster, you'll carry my briefcase home and to school all week.
- And if I - give me your apples all week! he agreed.
Then he puffed along the road with two knapsacks and muttered:
- So what! But you do not remember what you read, and you write more slowly. Are we arguing?...
- And let's play, - he suggested - As if I were a knight, and you seemed to be a lady of the heart.
- Fool, - for some reason she was offended.
- Weak? he laughed. - Weakly embarrassed at the sight of me? And not calling names a fool is also weak.
“And nothing is weak,” she said. - Then here's what. You also don't call me a fool and protect me.
“Of course,” he nodded. - And you solve algebra for me. This is not a chivalrous thing.
“And you write essays for me,” she giggled. - To lie and compose - just a chivalrous business.
And then he justified himself on the phone:
- You shouldn't have behaved like a fool. Then no one would have called a fool. By the way, I immediately apologized ...
- Can you play the person in love with me? she asked
"With difficulty," he answered sarcastically. “I know you too well. And what happened?
- I was invited to a party. And I don't want to go alone. Anything will be offered.
- Nuu .. I don't even know - he drawled.
- Weak? she said.
“And nothing is weak,” he accepted the offer. “Your pack of cigars, by the way.”
- For what? she didn't understand.
- Escorts are expensive these days, - he spread his hands.
And on the way home he muttered:
- Play the lover, play the lover. And she herself beats in the face for nothing ...
Lovers, by the way, usually climb to kiss ...
- What is it? she asked.
- Ring. Isn't it obvious? he mumbled.
- Nibelungs? Authorities? Is there a new game coming up?
- Yes. Let's play husband and wife, he blurted out.
"We need to think," she nodded.
- Weak? he said.
“And nothing is weak,” she drawled. - Aren't we playing?
- Let's get divorced, if that. Business, he chuckled.
And then he justified himself:
- And how do I know how proposals are made? I'm offering for the first time. Well, do you want to try again? I'm not weak.
- Shall we play parents? she suggested.
- Let's. In mine or in yours? he agreed.
- Fool. To the parents of their own child. Weak?
"Oh my," he thought. - Not weak, of course, but I suppose it is difficult ..
- Giving up? she got upset
- No no. When did I give up on you? I play, of course, - he decided.
- Making the game harder. You are now playing grandma.
- Truth? she didn't believe.
- 3900. - he nodded - Kid. Is it hard for you to play grandma?
What are you playing in this case?
- In the husband of the grandmother, - he laughed. - It's stupid for me to play grandma.
- In de-shower-ku. No matter how young you are here, she laughed. Or weak?
- Where am I going to...
She sat by his bed and cried:
- Giving up? Are you giving up? Are you leaving the game? Still weak to play?
- Yes. It seems so, he replied. - You played well, didn't you?
- You lost when you give up. Understood? Lost.
- A controversial statement, - he smiled and ... died.
... The phone ringing sounded impudently and without interruption:- Did you write in the name of the Lord? - Do not hang up.
- Hello! - the voice in the receiver gave a bell. Some kind of echo sounded in the tube:
We have read your letter. We don't understand what you are actually asking for.
- Like what? Live?
- What for?
- How is it why?
- Well, you see, people come to us with specific requests - one needs three months to complete the novel, another - six months to complete the opening, the third asks for a week to fly to Baku - to punch his best friend in the face that knocked on him in the KGB . What are you for?
- Yes, Lord, you'll go out in the morning, while it's not hot, the birds are the same, girls have bra straps peeking out from under T-shirts, 30 percent sour cream in the shop without a queue.
- So, just like that? This is what many want. (There was a thoughtful silence in the receiver.) OK then. You know what, as an exception. My comrades and I consulted here and decided to cancel your diagnosis.
Thank you, Comrade God! And me... What am I supposed to do? If you are counting on voluntary donations, then with me, along with a social allowance ... - you yourself know.
We know, we know how.
- Maybe go to church every day?
- These orthodoxies are already sitting in my liver.
- Lord, are you a reformist?
- Yes, I'm orthodox, but don't let those in black lapserdaks expose themselves as My only interpreters. Let's not touch this difficult topic.
- So what should I do, Lord?
- Nothing. Just live.
There were beeps on the phone.
…....
- This is amazing - the doctor was shocked - the inoperable tumor in the last stage disappeared! Tell me what did you take?
- Nothing, unless you drink beer sometimes.
…....
- Oh, and you will finish playing, Sasha, with these letters. With such difficulty they shoved you into the mail. Who gave you the right to open other people's letters, call strangers, introduce yourself either as the Snow Maiden or as God?
- Who will know? Who will check? Or maybe I saved a life...
Ugly....
"Every inhabitant of the apartment I lived in knew how ugly Ugly was. Local Cat. Ugly loved three things in this world: fighting, eating garbage and, let's say, love. The combination of these things plus living without a roof left on the body Ugly, indelible marks. To begin with, he had only one eye, and in place of the other there was a gaping hole. On the same side, the ear was also missing, and the left leg was once broken and fused at some incredible angle, which created the impression that the cat is always going to turn the corner.His tail was long gone.There was only a small stub that was constantly twitching..
Were it not for the many sores and yellow scabs covering Ugly's head and even shoulders, he might have been called a dark gray tabby. Anyone who looked at him at least once had the same reaction: what an UGLY cat. All children were strictly forbidden to touch it. The adults threw stones at him. They hosed him down when he tried to enter the house, or pinched his paw in a door so he couldn't get out. The ugly one always showed the same reaction. If they watered him with a hose, he obediently got wet until the tormentors got tired of this fun. If things were thrown at him, he would rub against his legs, as if asking for forgiveness. If he saw children, he ran to them and rubbed his head against his hands and meowed loudly, begging for affection. If someone did take him in his arms, he immediately began to suck on the corner of his shirt or something else that he could reach.
One day, Ugly tried to befriend the neighborhood dogs. In response to this, he was terribly bitten. From my window I heard his screams and immediately rushed to help. When I got to him, Ugly was almost dead. He lay curled up in a ball. His back, legs, back of the body completely lost their original shape. The sad life was coming to an end. A tear mark crossed his forehead. As I carried him home, he wheezed and gasped. I was carrying him home and most of all I was afraid of damaging him even more. Meanwhile he tried to suck my ear. I pressed him to me. He touched his head to the palm of my hand, his golden
the eye turned in my direction, and I heard a purr. Even experiencing such terrible pain, the cat asked for one thing - a drop of affection! Perhaps a little bit of compassion. And at that moment I thought I was dealing with the most loving being I have ever met in my life. The most loving and the most beautiful. He will never even try to bite or scratch me, or just leave. He just looked at me, confident that I could ease his pain.
The ugly one died in my arms before I could get home, and I sat for a long time holding him on my lap. Subsequently, I thought a lot about how one unfortunate cripple could change my ideas about what true purity of spirit, true and boundless love is. So it really was. The ugly one taught me more about compassion than a thousand books, lectures, or conversations. And I will always be grateful to him.
His body was crippled, and my soul was traumatized. The time has come for me to learn to love truly and deeply. Give everything to your neighbor without a trace. Most want to be richer, more successful, to be loved and beautiful. And I will always strive for one thing - to be Ugly ... "
A group of successful graduates who have made a wonderful career came to visit their old professor. Of course, soon the conversation turned to work - graduates complained about numerous difficulties and life problems.
Offering coffee to his guests, the professor went into the kitchen and returned with a coffee pot and a tray laden with a variety of cups - porcelain, glass, plastic, crystal and simple, and expensive, and exquisite.
When the graduates took apart the cups, the professor said: "If you notice, all the expensive cups are taken apart. Nobody chose simple and cheap cups. The desire to have only the best for yourself is the source of your problems. Understand that the cup itself does not make coffee better. Sometimes it's just more expensive, and sometimes it even hides what we drink.
What you really wanted was coffee, not a cup. But you have deliberately chosen the best cups. And then they looked at who got which cup.
Now think: Life is coffee, and work, money, position, society are cups. They are just tools for storing Life. What cup we have does not determine or change the quality of our Life.
Sometimes, concentrating only on the cup, we forget to enjoy the taste of the coffee itself.
Enjoy your coffee !!!!!!!!! (with)
32 minutes
Gold leaf poured through the office window. This indicated that another 1-2 hours would pass, and according to all Western canons, the weekend would begin. You can unhurriedly stretch the hated tie around your neck and, with a shuffling gait, "Mozey" head to your favorite O'Briens. Although, no...
No. How can you go to O'Briens when a cute creature named Natasha sits behind the wall and sniffles, waiting for the end of the second week of her stay in our office!? Moreover, I am the director, or not the director!? Moreover, there is no one else in the office: everyone hastily fled "on urgent matters." Lies, of course...
Natasha looked (or wanted to look) very “office-like” (as it seemed to her) and therefore gathered her blond hair into a bobble at the back of her head, exposed her chest in a narrow gray jacket and put on rectangular glasses in a plastic frame on her nose. In general, as in a porn movie ... Tina Karol, damn it.
I beautifully, from the hip, walked back and forth in front of her. Then he turned sharply, hung over her in his arms and said:
- Natasha, can I fuck you?
Natasha folded her lips with a “duck”, as the singer Valeria did in the video “Tayu” and looked at me like a naive child. Her eyes, with pure bluish whites, would have fallen out of their sockets if not for the springs holding them in their head ...
- What?
- I just wanted to ask if you can fuck?
- Uh
- Fuck. You.
- How to fuck?
- Well, like this. "Fuck." How people fuck.
“Maxim Nikolaevich…” the young employee whispered and looked at me frightened and tense, like a youngster who came according to an ad, like, for photo tests, but it turned out that they were filming hardcore with double penetration.
- You see, Natasha, I have been looking at you for a long time, - I sat down with one roll on her table, - You are a beautiful and smart girl, but you are somehow constrained. So I thought: "end of the week - you - fuck"!
- Is it that simple?
- Well, yes.
- Well, you know...
- Don't be afraid. I don't want to hurt you or offend you. I just want to fuck you.
The intense blinking lasted 1-2 minutes.
- And you all so openly offer?
- Not. Only the ones I really want to fuck.
- Yeah..
- Well...
- I am not like that…
- What is it?
- If "fuck" implies "sex", then there must be at least a reason for sex. For example, desire ... sympathy ... love
Why so deep? Sympathy is love. But what about physiology-health-antistress? I do not encroach on your feelings or, God forbid, love. I just want to fuck you.
- Fuck. Fuck prostitutes! And I'm a normal girl. And what word are you using - "Fuck"! There are no other words? - Natasha said sharply and was not offended.
- Sorry.
- Nothing.
“In modern relationships, everything is so fast,” she chirped ruefully, “no romance for you.” No flowers, no pretty words, no sunsets, no Dnieper...
- There are sweets ... in the refrigerator ...
- Candies? Are you buying me for candy?
- I just thought this: the guys often give flowers, sweets, sunsets and sunrises, the Dnieper, in order to persuade them later for sex. I mean, the girls take payment as if in advance. Prostitutes take payment after. That is, if you look, there is absolutely no difference.
- Well I do not know…
- What is there to know? A young handsome man offers to fuck you ... Of course, think about it, Natasha. It's still Friday...
I specifically emphasized the word "fuck." And he did not call this in any other way, as soon as so.
- And if it's Friday - so what? Is it necessary to drink and “fuck” someone?
- Well no. Just.
- What if someone comes in?
- None.
- But what if?
- No one will come in!
- And your wife?
- I'm divorced. And what about the wife? You might think that my wife once came at 17.00 under the office windows and took me home?!
Natasha looked into my eyes and stretched out on the table in front of her, towards me, her right hand in a white cuff. Everything ... Throughout science, this gesture means the “H” point. The woman is ready to be touched. She invites you to it.
- Natasha..
- Mmm?..
- Well, how is it?
- What?
- Nu as, that?! I'm not just sitting there. My goal is to fuck you.
- What if I say no?
- And you say?
- I'll tell you.
- Talk.
- How fast!
- Not fast, but specific.
- Yes!
The director raised his left hand in front of him. I looked at the clock.
- 32 minutes. Thank you Natasha. You can go home...
Once, a professor at one of the lectures introduced us to a new one. In thatAt that moment, I felt a light touch on my shoulder.
Looking around, I saw a small, scrawny old woman smiling at me.
so openly that involuntarily a smile lit up my face.
- Hello, beauty, my name is Rosa and I'm 87 years old, - she said. -
Can I sit next to you? I smiled and moved to give in.
her place.
- Of course, have a seat. May I know what brought you to
university at such an innocent age? I suddenly felt like joking.
- I'm here to meet a rich husband and give him a lot of children, -
winking at me, the old woman retorted. - But seriously? - Rose liked
me more and more. I'm interested in the motives of being here
this very old woman.
- But seriously... I always wanted to get a higher education, and
here I am, - answered Rose.
After the lectures, we went to the student canteen and together
had lunch. From that day on, we dined together for three months.
Rosa has become the soul of the company of almost all student parties .. All
students willingly communicated with her, never expressing their hostility.
At the end of the semester, we invited her to give a speech at the graduation party.
As she walked to the podium, sheets of cheat sheets fell out of her hands.
Embarrassed, Rosa tried to pick them up, but not all of them were collected.
leaflets.
- I'm sorry, I became so absent-minded .. For the sake of my husband, I stopped drinking
beer, so whiskey makes me drunk much faster,” she joked. -
I won't be collecting cheat sheets anymore, so let me just tell you that I
think. While the laughter subsided, she cleared her throat and began her speech:
- We don't stop playing because we grow up. We're growing up
because we stop playing. There are only a few ingredients
Your success, youth and happiness. You must smile every day
find something funny in life. You need a dream. When you
stop dreaming - you die. There are so many people around us who
dead and they don't even know it! There is a huge difference between
aging and growing up. If you are 19 years old and you will be
lying on the couch and doing nothing - you will be 20. If I
I lie on the couch for a whole year and will not do anything - I
turns 88. It's not hard to get older. We don't
it takes a talent or a gift to grow old. The gift is to
discover new opportunities for yourself in change. Don't regret anything!
Old people usually do not regret what they have done, they mourn what they have done.
they didn't get to do it. Only those who have much are afraid of death.
regrets.
Having finished her speech with the phrase "respectfully, Rosa", the old woman returned to
your place. We were all silent, digesting what we heard.
A year later, Rosa received her higher education, which she had been talking about for so long.
dreamed. She died quietly in her sleep a week later. Over two thousand
students came to her funeral, in memory of the fact that this little
a bright woman taught them to be who they can and want to be.
Remember: aging is inevitable. Growing up is optional.
... A normal person can eat one kilogram of dumplings on the move only with the help of three hungry cats ...- Hello.
Some time ago, I was slightly surprised by this way of starting a dialogue between a cashier in a store and a customer.
- Hello.
Bread, milk, a kilo package of dumplings.
- The amount of your purchase...
Yes, how convenient it has become now, when late at night on the way home from work you can go to the store and buy food for today.
Remember what happened before. And what. Big family, lots of people. Food was cooked once a week with the expectation of eating it during that very week. They cooked cabbage soup with meat and fresh parsley and floating clouds of yellow fat, cooked pilaf, potatoes, pasta, meatballs, dumplings, cereals, okroshka, broths, fish soup, stew, goulash, meatballs, salads, pies, pies, meatballs, minced meat, vinaigrettes, pates, jellies, noodles, borscht, beetroot, pickle, syrniki, pancakes, pancakes, dumplings, Easter cakes, cookies, cereals, cabbage rolls, puddings, cakes, muffins, gingerbread ...
I mentally drive away the images of various dishes that have arisen.
Now dumplings - a symbol of your loneliness - are your true hearty friends. There is no need to waste precious time on them, it is enough to throw them into boiled water and eat them in fifteen minutes. Trite? No. Just. Accessible and easy. Dumplings are the food of lost bachelors.
Do you think it's so nice to eat them? You are wrong. The main thing in this business is that you like them. And, sorry, to make you want them. For example, I pour them with mayonnaise. Just don't get excited. If you have known dumplings for a long time, then such a disguise will not be enough for you. You will be able to swallow about five or six of the thickest specimens smeared with this very mayonnaise, but then it will be more difficult. The seventh dumpling is no longer the desire to eat. But an experienced person will be ready for this. It's ketchup time! A portion of mayonnaise is laid out on a flock of dumplings, and ketchup is placed on top of the mayonnaise (preferably very spicy). A complex procedure - mixing ketchup and mayonnaise is performed as usual flawlessly and the next portion of dumplings is hardly eaten ...
So, resorting to a couple more purely bachelor tricks, a kilogram of the named product is eaten. BUT! Did you immediately remember the three hungry cats? With this, it’s simple - only a normal person needs their help ...
Loneliness allows you not to scrape, especially with your own person in pursuit of seconds of everyday life. Should I decorate my own table? Having cut uneven pieces of bread with a rough male hand, does it make sense to arrange them beautifully on a plate? To surprise-to please your own person? Most likely not ... They cook delicious food not for themselves - for dear people.
Hi, I'm Alik.
- Hey.
- I've been looking for you for a very long time, where have you been all this time? Give me your hand.
- Alik, when you passed by, I looked at you and tried my luck with one question - are you he?
- This is us!
I press her tightly to my chest and whisper in my ear: my sun, you and I will never eat ... dumplings.
http://forum.fxclub.org/showthread.php?t=15678&page=2