“The weather whispers – borrow some money and go get high.”
(Погода шепчет – займи и уколись)
This morning, though, the weather is whispering something more like – “Take some time off and stay the bloody hell at home.”
I think that hardly anyone is going to show up for work today (apparently, we’re getting an entire inch of snow, which, naturally, throws the entire city into an apocalyptic fever), and as I sit here, in my bitter loneliness, I warm the frozen cockles of my heart with stills from “300”:
Happiness is a warm Spartan, ooooh yeah.