We have long night.
But I'm just quietly made his way out of the kitchen, where, under the cover of night secretly tried diet pasta with vegetables. This unloading. The last two days have passed in August under the auspices of not diet, but useful icy vodka and boiling mutton fat, dripping from the traditional gown. Life goes on. On the balcony to dry two new, not yet finished paintings. Night now cool. Plus 18. And on TV constantly at war. But surprisingly, in spite of all its horrors, the new imperial policy Russia makes me gineticheskie liking. And even want to fulfill a fantasy of Ostap Ibrahimovic - declare holy war against Denmark. And avenge the murdered Hamlet.
Speaking of Friendship of Peoples. We've got until recently was near a metro station with the same name. And then it was renamed.
I foolishly little grieve about it. And now here I think is right, it was renamed. Who needs this stupid sovdepovskie illusion. And the hypocrisy in our lives and so bulk.
I wish you good mood and appetite.