And today I read, oddly enough, in the magazine, this is what a soulful story. Everything is so beautiful that it is difficult to believe. That is why I refer to a solid edition. Some, a lady from Belgium, living in a small city, is written, sixty kilometers from Brussels, decided to visit the capital. Sat behind the wheel, turned on the navigator. And the navigator failed. The journey came out exciting. The lady even had to spend the night on the road. Not to mention the need to refuel from time to time. But she believed in the testimony of the device. The navigator came to his senses in Zagreb. Woke up and informed the hostess that she would have to go to the final point 1800 kilometers. I sighed and went, because the rag is far from Brussels.
No right away. I mean – no, I don’t want to tell another joke about blondes. Moreover, it is not known for certain what color the heroine had the hair. And I don’t want to conduct vague analogies.
If I were a secondary hero of the film “Caucasian captive” (by the way, sometimes I feel like that, but not today, today the weather is so -so), I would simply say, having completed the narrative about the Belgian traveler: “So let’s drink for…”But Stop, I’m not a hero, and I do not presume to bow readers to alcoholism. Suddenly this is prohibited already – I did not have time to get acquainted with the Duma news today. It’s better not to take risks here.
Therefore, I will say simply: let’s hope that where we, everyone is personally, and our fatherland with all of us together, would bring it, the internal navigator will once wake up.
Here’s another patience to wish such a thing like that Belgian. I couldn’t. I would first break the navigator, and then cursed for a long time. Or vice versa. Or at the same time. Yes, so the Croats would have disappeared.
