Three girlfriends in the evening Drank coffee with a konyachok. About love talked, Laughed, joked. All secrets told. Than to occupy itself didn't know. And one of them climbed up To suggest to go to cinema. Two others agreed, Fast dressed up. And on CS a site joined.
There are people soul deep, as the ocean into which there is a wish to plunge. And there are people, as pools which need to be bypassed not to be soiled..
Hmm, I am a monkey, from where to me the nobility. Here if they were green, and on them bananas were drawn, I precisely would know. You remember Friends that, That it is impossible to play with fire Who with fire is careless At that the fire is possible.
My respect. Fire trucks are painted in red color color of fire, color of danger, the color which is evident from far away. But actually, except the red - primary color - there are also others: for identification marks and contrasting elements white color is established
I think it not so terribly, at me often happens that I can't write at all as we have an Internet still not on the highest situation. I wish you to endure this period safely.
My respect. My name Uma, but on this site a name has to consist of capital letters therefore I am Ummka though my relatives tenderly so call. Uma in transfer thought reason and mercy. And ummka is a small polar bear cub,
The nesting box became empty - birds Departed, to Leaves on trees Too isn't sat. The whole day today All fly, fly … It is visible, too to Africa want to Depart.
My respect. Everything will be OK. The father with the son had a farm. Animals was a little, but the horse was. Once it escaped. Awfully, so it wasn't lucky! - neighbors told.
- It was lucky, it wasn't lucky - who knows? - the farmer told. In many weeks the horse returned and brought with itself four wild stallions.
- It was fine lucky! - neighbors told. - It was lucky, it wasn't lucky - who knows? - the farmer told.
The son started training wild horses, was dumped and broke a leg. - So it wasn't lucky! - neighbors told. - It was lucky, it wasn't lucky - who knows? - the farmer told.
In a week military came to the village and began to take away all young men on war. The son didn't touch because he broke a leg. It was lucky, it wasn't lucky - who knows?
My respect. I one of those here who doesn't speak on English. But you don't worry because of it, after all not all British know Italian, as well as my Kazakh. To whom you to liking as the friend as the interlocutor as the girlfriend, will understand you, and won't carp at yours not knowledge. I wish you successful is here. Believe, there are worthy and kind people. And I very much love them and I am proud of them.
Ummka Blog Comments (1,619)
RE: Fog and haze
My respect, it is very sad. I was lucky, I live in the environmentally friendly wood.