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Today I dreamt of some dirty, cheap basement theater. There were a lot of people, and everyone was mumbling and whispering. And downstairs, on the stage, like in a coliseum, some curly, plump lady was belting out an opera, wearing a burgundy velvet curtain as a sash. She had white teeth stained with greasy red lipstick, and her mascara was smudged. She was wailing until she turned blue, and then a very tall man in a jabot came out, and a recitative began.
It was a disaster, basically.
Все псы попадают в рай
Какие бы законы мы не писали, нас все равно расстреляют, если мы проиграем эту войну.