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Written by Igor Baskin
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Sunday, 17 September 2006 |
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A week ago, 11 of september my cat put shit in the hall, and her first step into my home was exactly in point. I opened the door and let her go in first, that was my double fault. The girl was sort of feminist, and she was against the animal' descrimination. 'Poor animal' - she said, looking at me whith a very special face-expression. 'Yes, thrue' - I said, - 'visual art didnt bring me much money yet, but look at yourself, you was in shit'. It was a catastrophe. No, it was just an accident. No, it just something just happened. No problem. My cat makes a right choice, always. What's why I used to feed him. Fucking tow-three times pur day. Fortunately it is too smal to fly. And no wings...
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Last Updated ( Sunday, 17 September 2006 )
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