You know the feeling: no sleep for various reasons on the Friday. A Saturday fumbled through in a semi-concious daze. Sunday morning comes with the promises of a fry up and the opportunity to kick back and relax with a film. Until this:
And no, that cacophony was not produced from my insides falling out. That's builders at it. On a Sunday.
Ah, Russia.
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"So what? Can he move like me?"
-D.
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