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"Wowa, I Need Grounding!"
Recently while connecting lamps at the Tshajbukoshka house:
Tshajbukoshka: connects the lamp and sends a photo of it to the big brother
Wowa: And what about grounding?! Do you want to get electrocuted or what?
T: Grounding? What grounding? I've never grounded anything and nothing has ever happened.
W: That suits you. Your lamps are as grounded as you are. Not at all, blja*. You really want to get electrocuted.
T: Says the right person. Who had a fire pit in their room as a child after setting their bed on fire?
W: Oh, shut your mouth, you rascal. You weren't even around then.
T: But your dad told me about it!
…
And Tshajbukoshka learned it from the best. The Tshajbubruder, who isn’t really named Wowa but loves to be called Wowa (and Vitalik, but Vitalik = Wood Russian = Tshajbukoshka - the Tshajbubruder doesn’t even speak Russian) imitates Youtubovich and even looks a bit like him, made Tshajbu into the pyromaniac he still is today.
One of the first lessons: Fire.
It works best on dry ground, but even after the rain, when the scent of lush, damp grass rises, almost a bit mossy, all sorts of mischief can be done: for example, collecting earthworms.
And we also tried to grow trees. Well, at least we attempted it next to the avocado with lemons and oranges, successfully! We never ate the fruits though, even though the lemon tree at least bore quite pretty fruits.
The orange tree smells of peels, of oranges, not quite ripe, and the soil it’s in seems almost dried out again.
And yet everything is fine.
Calm.
Grounding.
Not with lamps, but Tshajbukoshka finds it with the Tshajbubruder. He takes Tshajbukoshka on his camping trips for fishing and teaches, alongside gutting fish and handling locks and the rifle, that every fidgety person has a place where they can switch off and enjoy the peace.
The big Tshajbubruder is now thirty, has had more gray than colored hair for a few years, and a little boy.
He has become calmer, even though he still cracks the same jokes as before and Tshajbukoshka still threatens him with a headlock when he calls him 'leek' or 'monkey' (the big brother's stinky armpit is pretty much the worst punishment of all, unless he just ate fish, hasn’t brushed his teeth, and breathes on you while you’re stuck in that very stinky armpit).
The wife watches the spectacle, shaking her head and suppressing a laugh: Tshajbukoshka, I will never understand how you can love your big brother so much when I see how he behaves.
T: I would NEVER have married him, with all my love. (I just would have liked to know him longer and have him around me for a while.)
And yet the Tshajbubruder has his charm, which is hard to resist. The Tshajbubruder is Tshajbukoshka's family, because blood may be thicker than lemonade, but earth is solid and remains stable, a foundation, like the Tshajbubruder.
Tshajbukoshka: connects the lamp and sends a photo of it to the big brother
Wowa: And what about grounding?! Do you want to get electrocuted or what?
T: Grounding? What grounding? I've never grounded anything and nothing has ever happened.
W: That suits you. Your lamps are as grounded as you are. Not at all, blja*. You really want to get electrocuted.
T: Says the right person. Who had a fire pit in their room as a child after setting their bed on fire?
W: Oh, shut your mouth, you rascal. You weren't even around then.
T: But your dad told me about it!
…
And Tshajbukoshka learned it from the best. The Tshajbubruder, who isn’t really named Wowa but loves to be called Wowa (and Vitalik, but Vitalik = Wood Russian = Tshajbukoshka - the Tshajbubruder doesn’t even speak Russian) imitates Youtubovich and even looks a bit like him, made Tshajbu into the pyromaniac he still is today.
One of the first lessons: Fire.
It works best on dry ground, but even after the rain, when the scent of lush, damp grass rises, almost a bit mossy, all sorts of mischief can be done: for example, collecting earthworms.
And we also tried to grow trees. Well, at least we attempted it next to the avocado with lemons and oranges, successfully! We never ate the fruits though, even though the lemon tree at least bore quite pretty fruits.
The orange tree smells of peels, of oranges, not quite ripe, and the soil it’s in seems almost dried out again.
And yet everything is fine.
Calm.
Grounding.
Not with lamps, but Tshajbukoshka finds it with the Tshajbubruder. He takes Tshajbukoshka on his camping trips for fishing and teaches, alongside gutting fish and handling locks and the rifle, that every fidgety person has a place where they can switch off and enjoy the peace.
The big Tshajbubruder is now thirty, has had more gray than colored hair for a few years, and a little boy.
He has become calmer, even though he still cracks the same jokes as before and Tshajbukoshka still threatens him with a headlock when he calls him 'leek' or 'monkey' (the big brother's stinky armpit is pretty much the worst punishment of all, unless he just ate fish, hasn’t brushed his teeth, and breathes on you while you’re stuck in that very stinky armpit).
The wife watches the spectacle, shaking her head and suppressing a laugh: Tshajbukoshka, I will never understand how you can love your big brother so much when I see how he behaves.
T: I would NEVER have married him, with all my love. (I just would have liked to know him longer and have him around me for a while.)
And yet the Tshajbubruder has his charm, which is hard to resist. The Tshajbubruder is Tshajbukoshka's family, because blood may be thicker than lemonade, but earth is solid and remains stable, a foundation, like the Tshajbubruder.
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**Beautiful integration of the fragrance pyramid architecture trophy!** Check out this quote from performer Marina Abramovic - could this correspond to the 4ajbukoshArt? "I can clearly feel that I come from the Balkans. We turn everything into a big drama. Whether it's personal life events or the fundamental drama of human existence."