Malakhov, Dmitry Viktorovich, you're making quite a buzzing noise, the whole site is buzzing. It's not me who's here, it's you, the buzz, doing your thing. Grab your punks and go yourself, you're hardly capable of anything.
Malakhov, Dmitry Viktorovich, you're making quite a buzzing noise; the whole site is buzzing. It's not me who's here, it's you, the buzz, doing your thing. Grab your punks, you're probably not capable of anything yourself.
Malakhov, what's counted? A scapegoat? You, Dmitry Viktorovich, are more often concerned with space. Globality, so to speak. Isn't that a bit petty for such a mental giant? I wouldn't dare ask—the father of Russian democracy—weren't you the one who wanted to wear the intoxicating orange garb?
Backwoods, if you, my dear fellow, are particularly interested in space, I'll email you something to read. There's no point in mentioning it here. About the orange pants that got you so worked up... I don't even know... Well, say "coo!" Once. Because if twice, the pants should be red by now. All those other "fathers"—is this your feeble attempt to verbalize your buzzing? To give it meaning and significance? At least in your own eyes.
Don't strain yourself, listen to the bumblebee on the clover in the garden. He does it well, deep and thorough. Because it's to the point. I wish the same for you.
Malakhov, Dmitry Viktorovich, if I were interested in space, you're the last person I should ask, because you're so dull. The orange pants are a reference to "The Twelve Chairs"; you're not obligated to know that book. In fact, you know very little anyway. Well, verbalizing the word counts for you, but otherwise, no... I still can't understand your efforts to justify your dullness. That's usually what a bunch of thugs do. Isn't that right this time?
About the orange pants that got you so worked up... I don't even know... Well, say "coo!" Once. Because if twice, the pants should be red by now.
All those other "fathers"—is this your feeble attempt to verbalize your buzzing? To give it meaning and significance? At least in your own eyes.
Don't strain yourself, listen to the bumblebee on the clover in the garden. He does it well, deep and thorough. Because it's to the point. I wish the same for you.
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