A little bit powder.

Examples:

"Hi, honey, I'm standing in the Pantheon!

Oh, I'm so sorry! Hey dear interner surfers!

The following ancient Greek saying will sound weird, but I also have a nose, just like your board. Says he needs to feed some fish or some shit. I can't believe something's blocking my nostrils. For instance, this strange shrimp sometimes blocks entire ranges of IP addresses for "World of Warcraft." Don't ask me how! Get lost! I am as good as I may be. I'm so stuck to the sardines as well as stump I'm sitting on, that the pleasant smell of the forest enters right into two holes - from the bottom of my nose. By the way, I'm not upset about this. By the way, I was very upset about forgetting my bag. By the way, for infection with rotavirus infection, an insignificant number of viruses are needed - no more than 100. By the Way, discovered discovery is not the only lunar mystery. Let's go back to the chief topic of our conversation, the 2003 Spring War in the starving's bear nasopharynx. He just had a piece of propeller stuck in his ear or maybe he has a small piece of fluff in the depths of his armpit, which thumps there to this day. So that you understand, my dear listeners, that it's not about the ballistic missiles that are stored in the woodpecker's den. Have you ever seen a ufo? It's something flying and smelly. It's better for you not to see it. Don't be so inquisitive, don't try to live in the belly of a whale like his Majesty the prophet Jonah. You know, when a bridge falls into the abyss, where an octopus affected by a stroke sits resting on the bottom of a puddle and rapes a cactus, victim of a robbery. I'm thinking here, what will happen if, with good intentions insert a sd card into the slit of Mozart's coffin, will there be enough space for a variety of music on this card and what the bitrate will be, after pulling this card back out in two hours coming from a roadside diner! Return to Albert Einstein, pull out from his luxuriant moustache three hairs. All this vanity of vanities, until I accidentaly fell down the hill. It was winter, I will never forget the croaking frogs in the reeds and at that time I was still a schoolboy, who went to the forest on the ice slide, to slide down it on his own tummy like a skillful dolphin. The baby boy does not allow to touch his tummy and often takes a forced lying position. In general, I climbed up the hill, well, I can assure you my dear listener, that all those who stood against me while I was climbing the hill ended up either desiccated, dust, or dinner. My sister was with me, she was fencing at a pine tree with debt collectors who tried to squeeze a pine tree from her. Winter collectors demand existence of the pump, the timer and a special tank. I stood on the hill on two legs, because it was at that moment that I realized that I could stand, licked the tip of my nose with my tongue and, like a boss, standing on two legs, began to slide down the ice slide. Behind me, some strange crowd of people, something like a bunch of gypsies, also began to slide down the ice slide. I think something's gone wrong. In general, they were screaming there from fascinating emotions like bitches, sliding down an ice slide because they saw the hill for the first time in their lives, since they themselves saw the World only from a haystack. Just... just for a second, while sliding down the ice slide to the bottom, I imagined a pink bald goose stuck to the ice. Immediately I remembered that two years before these events I had taken a whole jar of pills for cardio-stimulation found at archaeological excavations in the pocket of a mummy. And after washing down all this stuff with herbal tea I was under the influence of an acid trip. I can't help but notice that I was sliding down the ice slide like a bobsled sled, but smoke came out of the chimney and a new Pope was chosen. You know, when a rhino runs a sprint and accidentally crashes its horn right into the ass of a pole vaulter who smokes weed a meter before the finish line. Only enlightened aesthetes know that this is a big pain in the ass. Well, so, some obese dude, either a sumo wrestler, or from this pile of a caravan that slid like pieces of shit behind me down the hill, being rickets, he could not hold on to his leg prostheses and lost his balance, then he flew down the ice slide like a potato and when he flew like a rabid carp, he bumped into me and I lost my balance and fell. I just collapsed like a monument to Sadam Hussein, but it happened so instantly, in a quick scroll, as the self-satisfied needleworkers move the slider in the video to the very end on thematic websites. But I don't think that is the right strategy for conversations while sitting near campfire! Returning to the subject of macroeconomic environment, I suggest you look at the world in which we live. I just fucked up and hit my pretty nose right on the ice and drilled a well there from a collision with this icy shit, where the deceased mummy was later found. I was lying under a bunch of some cretins who were rolling down the hill behind me, and they looked like pieces of fertilizer that are elegantly scattered on the Hollywood Walk of Fame, well, fuck them all! My sister came running with a sword and took me home, blood was quietly gushing from my nose, and at that moment a sergeant from the police station was making figures of aborigines out of plywood during the ergotherapy procedure My sister came running with an epee and took me home, I was quietly bleeding from my nose, like some shit from a fire extinguishing hose in a fire truck, what is it? They are drooling from a hose or soap bubbles, and at this moment a sergeant from the police station was making figures of aborigines out of plywood during an ergotherapy procedure at an Eros Ramazzotti concert. But I do not want to end on such a desperate note. I don't want to rush my writing, because I'm technically submitting my PhD thesis on the topic "Problems of an icy nose under a block of ice during global warming" early already, so finishing earlier than September is out of the question.

"Your nose has become as big as a meteorite and lost its virginity, but it's cute like a rainbow!" : the shoemaker told me at the doctor's appointment. I want the audience to engage with the stories I am telling in my work. That would be the end of the story, if it wasn't true. I think it's bad that everyone's nose sticks out. So that it is easier to hit it with a piece of board. But that's how the Lord thought it all out, and I don't want to argue with that. in general, I have always been unlucky with keeping my nose in peace of mind, either hit the door jamb with it, or lower it into a pot of pea soup, or accidentally hit it on a cast-iron iron. But one night the village faced with the witches of living forest once more. Once I enjoyed staying in an Internet cafe, and there different people wrote chat messages to other people. I know you didn't know about such possibilities, nevermind. And some sexually deranged old miner wrote obscenities in the chat to some woman, and half an hour later a Nissan Patrol SUV drove up to the Internet cafe, from which bald guys came out. And I was standing smoking just at the entrance, in short, the administrator of the Internet cafe comes out, points his finger at me and says to these bald creatures coming up to the entrance "Look! That's him! It's this dude who wrote trash to your whore in the chat!". Well, that was fucked! I just caught up with this ugly turn. I hope you believe me, dear listeners, that it wasn't me who wrote to some slut there! The faggot who wrote all his poetic thoughts to her was a frequenter of the Internet cafe, that fucking old miner. In short, at the entrance, one bald big guy gave me a fist on the head and the second one gave me in the nose, thank God he didn't break it, he just injured me. And again, fuck, blood gushed out of the nose in a stream. And the third bald motherfucker stood and laughed on the sidelines, I remember he was pumped up with muscles, although, I think it was just cotton wool under his jacket, so, for intimidation. Here, one of the episodes of the life of my best friend in life, my nose. His name is Jack "Starsky Piglet" James, follow him please, like and subscribe, as well as respect his right to speak up and be heard. Now I would like to straighten my nose, since I no longer rob the homeless and I will not fight on the street anymore, but this does not mean that I will not fight. All the disasters began with that familiar icy hill, darn it all! Again, in some cases, an operation may be required to straighten my friend. And know, my dear listeners, that I do not interfere with nature. I just had a majestic nose by nature, but a series of tragedies and setups turned it into a majestic clothespin. So, the plan-schemes of my original nose remained in the archives, so I think there will be no problems with restoring it to its original form. If you wish, you can contribute a few coins for the restoration of a kind nose. So bit-by-bit I will make myself a nose with a spinning chrome disk on the tip. And the main thing here is to avoid extremes and ubiquitous fanaticism, because the consequences of hasty actions, despite the positive feel of the current phase, can be impressive (of course, in the negative sense). As a result, I will inform you, and in general, I will always inform you. Please remember, my dear listeners, that I do not beg. You invest, I will still be useful to you.