Charles served us both with a generous double
shot of single malt, but not enough to let him forget his bad mood
- Bush, merd. Osama, shit. Putin, sin na kurva…
- What’s up Charles, now you speak Bulgarian
to tell me that Putin is a son of putin?
- All of them teetotal, those three fucking
bashtards
- You are right, I had never thought about it
- Evidentapparently ish a conspirashy against
our shane habits of democracy angloshasshon democrashy in the
Weshtminshter bars. You must do shomething
- I am already doing best, Charles, soon I will
complete my mission of being co-opted in the Italian radicals’
committee, the well-known world-wide antiprohibitionist power, as
soon as pass the Tosoni Test of radicality
- Then, what are you waiting for?
- I still don’t know the answer to the last
question of the Testosoni. In order to find it I’m leaving for NYC
where I will meet a very well informed journalist, but to be on the
safe side I will also send Andrea to Hamburg in order to sounding out
in depth the Tosoni himself
- Gud lock, cheers
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