In 2017 year. In Moscow. I miss cheese


В 2017-м году. В Москве. Я скучаю по сыру

Summing up the year, I think, including about such insignificant thing as cheese.
I apologize in advance for what is generally thought about minor.
So cheese.
Purchases that I could afford in the past year have been limited to products.
Pleasure, consequently, also (with rare exceptions).
Cheese is among them in the first place.
This is from my childhood.
It’s from grandma and grandpa.
All can get bored.
Even the rum.
Cheese never.
This is a proven friend.
For Breakfast he always.
Even if there’s nothing else.
So cheese.
Everything up to 500-600 rubles per kilogram (and this is a very decent amount for me) – was the real poison.
In the chemical sense of the word.
It does not have the right to be called cheese.
It does not have the right to be called food.
It has no right to exist.
No cheese, of course, you can live (although not want).
It’s not even in it.
And that the head does not fit: how to hate his people, to principle him to poison.
With gusto.
I’m okay.
I at least voluntarily.
And, to be fair, Russia’s so-called cheese – not the most dangerous thing that I put in myself.
But the children.
As you feed that to your children?
It’s not every dog will take in your mouth.
Several times this year I brought cheese from abroad.
It was a real treat.
Day free cheese.
In 2017 year. In Moscow. I miss cheese.



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