Questionnaires with which we filled for each other in school days were recollected: such chubby writing-books with pasted perevodilkami, cards and labels and the sea of essential and insignificant questions for that age. Has decided to make too here the list of questions, actual for today. To "the best people of a city» the questionnaire has been suggested to find out on purpose, that us inspires most of all: our favourite films and the books, favourite spirits and vacation spots. Questions on favourite positions from the Kama Sutra, it is equal as names and a serial number of partners with which these positions have gone right in the best way, have not been included this time. As a number of the interrogated has expressed easy disappointment in the absence of erotic aspect, I promise to be corrected. Next time. For now here, that I have learnt.

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Louise Lozhkin bewitches, draws and does not release. The name delightful, sounds to impossibility plausibly, at once I recollect schoolmate Albina Bashmakovu. Albina, Louise why also is not present. About four hundred pages I swallow instantly, I read till midnight, the rest in 70 more pages I begin to read up in the morning at breakfast and I am not late nearly for work.

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On September, 1st, 1987. The crowd of uneasy pupils and their parents has crowded in a showroom, noise of voices, solemnity of the moment, unfamiliar while persons of teachers and odnogruppnikov … Name the next surname, from crowd the scared girl-teenager separates, in vraskorjachku climbs through under an easel and approaches to the Selection committee.

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In the end of school, getting used to storming wild capitalism, and thinking of a fast and favourable marriage, with girl-friends the unpretentious patience which converges already after the third, fourth reshuffle of cards more often is displayed.

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Second and more exact name of the book «the Loneliness in the Network» (JAnusha Vishnevsky) could become «Acquaintance on the Internet», the third «Dialogue of two neurasthenics in a chat and on e-mail». Why I have bought the book in last arrival to Moscow?
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Fairy tale – lie …

Do not take in holiday of books under the name: «the New life», «How to cease to worry and start to live», «the First things first of all» (First Things First), «the Man and the woman do not approach each other» (Why Men Don’t Listen and Women Can’t Read Maps).

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The second part of a phrase: „as the fascist in the tank“ is said now by tolerant men aloud, after the doctrine I enter fight. The battlefield is outlined: streets of Berlin become them; the fighting horse or is better the fighting tank in the form of family kombi is planned to acquisition. Shortly before long-awaited purchase we hire the car. I come nearer to hire, feet give away, hands shiver, in a head - thought: „If only normally to drive off from the hire, only to drive off …“

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The city of Gameln is well-known for the legend about Krysolove. The legend is that. In 1284 Gameln have suddenly flooded crowds of mice and rats. Every day them became more and more. Rodents destroyed the foodstuffs, people, were not included into whose nearest plans strict diets (other canons of beauty were during those far times), have begun to worry.

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In Germany May – is time weddings. In Russia, know, “in May you marry, all life you will toil“. Though there are also exceptions, my parents have celebrated a wedding in May, this year mark thirty first anniversary, and give to them the God at least as much again next anniversaries. It is more from among friends and familiar daredevils were not, any May wedding I can not recollect. The Berlin weddings were carried by by a chain, one replacing another.

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Fairly I admit, in the Louvre I was last time about five years ago. And that only because someone from friends has arrived, and I have gone there with them for the company. Tour d'Eiffel does not cause for a long time in me any positive emotions – if frankly the kind with Tour Montparnasse is much more interesting. Galerie Lafayette – mm … unless before Christmas when in show-windows the whole doll representations are played, and each of them – a small masterpiece. Cemeteries in general never involved me, no less than cathedrals. And at the pseudo-Greek restaurants exorbitant prices and disgustingly feed.

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