So the day passed, which is still talked about by leisure political scientists and deputies: "Is it a holiday or not?"
And for me, now, every day is the Holiday. But yesterday for the first time in the last 50 years (I calculated this number for a long time, and even turned to the help of a calculator) I did not notice it with a glass of vodka.
And not from fierce hatred of Grandfather Lenin, but because of the banal reason for the absence colored banknotes.
There are only a few days left until retirement. So far he will not run away from me.
I'm sending the last pictures, some of them specially drawn to this day.
The names of the pictures eloquently reveal their meaning. So in the comments they do not need.
An attentive spectator will notice the frequent presence of goats in my pictures. I loved this character.
Well, if modern genetics even a cockroach considers the closest relative man, the goat is closer to us. This applies to his inner world, and of course to the horns.
Well, so far.