Immorality, trick, rottenness…
There are no other recipes!
Or in spirit already they were colonized.
They necessarily wanted the President to get on those buses and attend the Queen’s funeral. His non-attendance is strange for the state administration! Get out of there!..
They would have severely criticized him had he participated, “Here’s the scandal images” they would say; They blame that they missed this opportunity.
In our media pandemic Connected to WHO as well as in the Ukraine crisis in general. connected to Kiev looks…
Russian agencies and newsrooms inside “communism revived cells” they are like. In other words, it is difficult for people on the street to perceive “what is going on” properly.
In the West, large sections mental vision London’s Ukraine policy in captivity. (Germans uneasy about it but caring are there?) The rest with “doomsday” scenarios they are busy. Putin’s nuclear threats like Michael Synder’s religious references based on written “Loving Year Apocalypse/Seven Years Armageddon” quite a bit of wind he’s doing it.
Stopovers on highways economical, if the crisis has already evaporated you would think…
Queues in front of Starbucks, crowds in places that hurriedly bring meatballs or kebabs to the table, customers of chestnut confectioners (this flavor bomb is a jewel, judging by the prices), etc.
The only difference from the past is paying parents stunned to their car to walk in and pulling a big “poff” before getting behind the wheel…
Recently SigacikI passed by… The inside of the castle is still nice, but what I know from seven or eight years ago not calm; increasingly eating and drinking makeshift fun transformed into place.
It has attracted my attention since the earliest days of Bodrum: When touristic places turn the steering wheel to night entertainment, the smell of dirt and garbage fills them during the daytime. I hope my nose got it wrong this time.
The people of Sığacık are very fond of their handmade pastries, I saw it once again. I bought black mulberry juice; bottle is 70 lira. 40 kilometers ago, on the village road, the bottle was 15 liras.
In the morning I went out to the balcony. My dill seeds have sprouted, and some have grown quite large. The apocalyptic state of the world drinking dill buttermilk to watch I am planning.