Ptichka and I occassionally attempt to one-up each other. Today we were competing for the title of Worst One with Whom to Live. Ptichka began listing her demands and complaints in a whiney voice, "Zhenio! Make me more coffee! Zhenio! I can't find my pants! Zhenio! I don't want to make dinner tonight!" I sidled up to her. "That's nothing," I said," Ptichko! My life has no purpose!"
This particular round went to me. Sometimes diss-related angst is good for something.
There's nothing below to fold.