татко Крокодил

Genocide day. Judging by the smell of the plates which I washed, the life in them had discovered fire. It’s nice to clean and arrange things, and also is a good excuse to not do something else.

The evening was a combination of a long walk with an interesting person and IBB, at which I drank half a liter of wine (my blood pressure is low, the others tried to make me drink more, but with no luck), and we spoke the usual fun stuff, while I did some reading and annotating of Chorbadzhiyski’s plan for the Sunday lecture, and sent him my notes (he can speak a whole day on this plan). Some people kept bothering me – I have a snail drawn on my hand by Ylith ….

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