816
As usual in males
When a man is ill, his woman, you must rebuild their lives radically and forever. Well, not forever, but at least for a week (or whatever takes the flu?). Actually, there is one basic rule: do mournful face five minutes to the widow and do not laugh too loudly. But it is difficult because men suffer from something like this:
Quiet, please. Pronounced in a weak voice, as, indeed, any other phrase. He temperature, but you have hair dryers. And a vacuum cleaner. And mixer. And washing machine. In a past life you were Tommaso Torquemada or unnamed Chinese master executioner, who wrote the torture of the lack of sleep and rest.
Can I buterbrodik? This is probably the last buterbrodik in his life, so I have to try. Gruel? No, he does not want gruel, put buterbrodik here and do not bother me, I have a column of tanks on the right flank.
Correct me a cushion. Only carefully, I'm so fragile.
Including sports channel. This is the only thing that helps as follows sweat. Need to sleep under the sports channel, wake up to a sports channel, and then fall asleep again (yes, a sports channel). Strict adherence to this cycle gives a small chance that I still get better and once again see the sun.
"38.5". He wrote on Facebook. And the next three days with a sad and a bit detached from this sinful world laykaet smile: "Get well soon, bro!" And "hold on, all will be well!».
Turn to have sex with me. Who said that I Ebola? I said that? Well, okay, it is still a loan, Ebola is almost contagious, honestly.
Where are you going? What kind of work, which store what parents ?! Do not you dare even. Suddenly something happens, I did not call an ambulance, and you then life will reproach myself. I can not allow this to happen, stay home. And bring another buterbrodik.
I do not know. Universal answer to any question of the universe. Would you like some tea? I do not know. Maybe warm milk? I do not know. Well, who knows? Yes I do not know, who knows unhooking. Ask clarifying questions ailing man senseless and cruel. The right choice will imperatives: to bring milk and order, "drink". And do not pay attention to the silent reproach in the eyes of the doomed.
I am a monument ... like the man says, lying on the sofa in the living room. Pribolevshey woman usually hammered into a corner and tries to cough more quietly, so as not to disturb others. Men suffer tasteful, sensibly and with deliberation. They lie in the middle of the room, crying sneeze 12 times, informing neighbors of the occurrence of the afternoon, and fill up the space around them with paper handkerchiefs to be beautiful as herringbone and confetti.
I do not want. Basically, he wants nothing. But drugs - especially. Medications man will eat only seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. That is, at the end of the disease and making a very big favor. Fortunately, medicine men are very good - to the point where you will catch him, he successfully set sail on the service.
Quiet, please. Pronounced in a weak voice, as, indeed, any other phrase. He temperature, but you have hair dryers. And a vacuum cleaner. And mixer. And washing machine. In a past life you were Tommaso Torquemada or unnamed Chinese master executioner, who wrote the torture of the lack of sleep and rest.
Can I buterbrodik? This is probably the last buterbrodik in his life, so I have to try. Gruel? No, he does not want gruel, put buterbrodik here and do not bother me, I have a column of tanks on the right flank.
Correct me a cushion. Only carefully, I'm so fragile.
Including sports channel. This is the only thing that helps as follows sweat. Need to sleep under the sports channel, wake up to a sports channel, and then fall asleep again (yes, a sports channel). Strict adherence to this cycle gives a small chance that I still get better and once again see the sun.
"38.5". He wrote on Facebook. And the next three days with a sad and a bit detached from this sinful world laykaet smile: "Get well soon, bro!" And "hold on, all will be well!».
Turn to have sex with me. Who said that I Ebola? I said that? Well, okay, it is still a loan, Ebola is almost contagious, honestly.
Where are you going? What kind of work, which store what parents ?! Do not you dare even. Suddenly something happens, I did not call an ambulance, and you then life will reproach myself. I can not allow this to happen, stay home. And bring another buterbrodik.
I do not know. Universal answer to any question of the universe. Would you like some tea? I do not know. Maybe warm milk? I do not know. Well, who knows? Yes I do not know, who knows unhooking. Ask clarifying questions ailing man senseless and cruel. The right choice will imperatives: to bring milk and order, "drink". And do not pay attention to the silent reproach in the eyes of the doomed.
I am a monument ... like the man says, lying on the sofa in the living room. Pribolevshey woman usually hammered into a corner and tries to cough more quietly, so as not to disturb others. Men suffer tasteful, sensibly and with deliberation. They lie in the middle of the room, crying sneeze 12 times, informing neighbors of the occurrence of the afternoon, and fill up the space around them with paper handkerchiefs to be beautiful as herringbone and confetti.
I do not want. Basically, he wants nothing. But drugs - especially. Medications man will eat only seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. That is, at the end of the disease and making a very big favor. Fortunately, medicine men are very good - to the point where you will catch him, he successfully set sail on the service.
