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Schizophrenia. The beginning.
The edge of the forest. It is dawn. A hare galloped across the edge of the forest. It rode only one way and lurked the bastard behind a birch tree, waiting for the next installment of the National Endowment for Democracy.
Meanwhile, with the first rays of the sun, the wildflowers, paid for through CIA shell companies, began to bloom. A cuckoo cuckooed on a pine tree. Not for nothing. Yesterday she had received a six-cuckoo transfer from Israel.
Meanwhile, British MI6's purchased clouds began to gather over the clearing. It started to rain. The hare was all wet, but kept waiting for the next payment from his overseas sponsors. But his ears perked up and became alert. From somewhere in the distance there was a rumbling and crackling of dry trees. The bunny huddled into the old birch tree that had been planted with Posev's money. Moose, paid by State Department, rushed from the forest to the clearing with a rattle.
And in the evening... and in the evening over the forest, illuminating with yellow light the glade and the creek and the field, it rose. Anticipating the orange revolution, paid for with money from the United States Department of Defense, the moon hung over Russia.
Bears, it would be funny if it were not true.
Read the memories of our captains of the catastrophe.
And the recollections of veterans of overseas special services.
It makes your hair stand on end.
And you keep rallying.
Schizophrenia. The beginning.
... there's a moon hanging over Russia.
And first of all, by the Russians themselves."
(c) not mine
So write them a letter saying: "So and so, I am a serious dissenter and generally an oppositionist. I am planning to hold protests there and there against this and that. I take my leave now."
Well, it's come to a point where it doesn't make sense. I'm telling you, you're not interested in the case.
The point is that we rally here in the village for our own, and you say that for American. It doesn't add up.
Well, now you've come to the point of making no sense at all. I tell you, you're waving it off, you're not interested in the case.
The point is that we here in the countryside are rallying for our own and you say American. It doesn't add up.
I'm sorry, are you the organiser to say that?
Don't mess with me. Give Vita his money. And me too, by the way.
Don't be a pain in the ass. Give Vitta his money. Me too, by the way.
Come back the other day.
Or even earlier.
Mischek, it would be funny if it weren't true.
Mischek 19.12.2011 18:17
Schizophrenia. Beginning.
The edge of the forest. It is dawn. Through all the glade skipped hare. Ran only one way and lurked the bastard behind a birch tree, waiting for the next instalment from the National Endowment for Democracy.
Meanwhile, with the first rays of the sun, the wildflowers, paid for through CIA shell companies, began to bloom. A cuckoo cuckooed on a pine tree. Not for nothing. Yesterday she had received a six-cuckoo transfer from Israel.
Meanwhile, British MI6's purchased clouds began to gather over the clearing. It started to rain. The hare was all wet, but kept waiting for the next payment from his overseas sponsors. But his ears perked up and became alert. From somewhere in the distance there was a rumbling and crackling of dry trees. The bunny huddled into the old birch tree that had been planted with Posev's money. Moose, paid by State Department, rushed from the forest to the clearing with a rattle.
And in the evening... and in the evening over the forest, illuminating with yellow light the glade and the creek and the field, it rose. A harbinger of an orange revolution, paid for by the United States Department of Defense, the moon hung over Russia.
Come back the other day.
Or even earlier.
The address ?
Address ?
22 Malaya Arnautskaya Street.
For you personally -- Furshtatskaya, 15.