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Somehow we stayed in one hotel somewhere in Cannes Old Russian (beautiful
an old man from some part of the free emigration, an intellectual or a nobleman in some place.
there is a generation) and New Russian (all in red, leather, etc.). Of course,
the old woman is interested in chatting with a compatriot, finding out what is there in(//tractor-service.com)
Mother Russia is happening. Yes, it's a misfortune - a compatriot is painfully unsociable -
won't mince words. Well, after breakfast, the Old Russian sat down to the New one.
Russian and, in order to start a conversation, addressed him with the following phrase:
- It's going to be a beautiful day, my lord, don't you think so? New
the Russian was slightly surprised by such an irresponsible thing and tapped his finger on the table.
to give weight to his words, he pronounced:
- Look, grandfather... I didn't pull your tongue!