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It has as we know been SPX and book release of Theo Part 3. After hugely very hard so it was nice to just find one korrfel. The first book contained the now legendary error "sakrofag" instead of "sarcophagus" but because it is a word people very rarely use in everyday life, so it's pretty-ohittat-It's a shame, padma we should all say the word "sarcophagus" at least 3 times a week, except on holidays padma and public holidays when all it takes is 2 times per week, unless the leave falls on a Tuesday. If so, you're welcome to change the word to "sakrofag" One of the evenings after the SPX, I sat on a chock-full train with destination, Anyang. Because it was so full, so sat the photos even on the floor in the aisles. Beside me, though down on the floor positioned himself somewhat corpulent gentleman with a your own packed lunch box containing noodles and some kind of chicken wok. He was the kind of man who, after a visit to Mallorca, buy a t-shirt with the resort's name on it, and then wear it in all situations, for all clothes and with a pride of biblical dimensions. Anyway, this man was very opinionated. Not unpleasant by any means, but he implicated himself in EVERYONE'S life and invited happily around their noodles to both fellow passengers and conductors. No one wanted to have his saliva-soaked noodle wok or his opinions in their lives. Yep, that's how we treat our fellow human beings, I am NOT different. Believe me, dear friends, his saliva shiny nudellåda was the last thing my nose wanted padma to be immersed in. So I did the right thing, I turned a blind eye and ignored my corpulent fellow padma traveler. I saw in the corner of my eye how he frantically searched for an opening to dialogue with me, like Gibraltar rocks, I stood firm against his attempt to overthrow me in waves foaming blight. Proud I resisted ... until pollen allergy kicked in with a giant sneeze! The man's face lit up as if he were a sunflower painted by van Gogh, and roared-Ged sundheit! How would I escape?? I played the German card and responded with such German accent I could just-Danke. My corpulent fellow passengers became deathly pale, and turned to look down at the floor. I succeeded! What if he was a master of German. By then I had been smoked. The rest of the trip was quiet and cozy. Ahh, almost like having your own Kuppe! When it was time to get off, I could not help but look down at my now silent nudelvän and wish him a good evening with the words-Guten aberration. This time, the corpulent gentleman looked up at me, and with nudelflottig mouth, he wished me (I think) the same, with the words-Fla fla flaaa Flaa. Sometimes, not always, but sometimes, SJ a source of the soul's enjoyment. Ta-ta! Ola
Started reading 3rd yesterday. Woke
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