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My Sunday.
In my last sunday i was in the country. I was visited my grandmother. She lives not very far from our town.
I get up in 7 o clock and helped my grandma to feed hens and cockerells. Hereafter my grandma coocked for us very big apple pie. In the evening parents come pick me up home.
Sunday! Off! Hooray, the school does not go, I will not teach lessons. Parents had gone to the country. Complete independence. One, two - were pulled, three, four - have risen. Five, six - looked in the refrigerator. Food shaft. Seven, eight - did gymnastics, worked jaws. Come back into the room, turn on the TV. "MTV - my channel! Oh," Twelve Angry Viewers. "Falls on the sofa? Well, well, well ... again the same ambitious company. What are you talking about, fool? Rap pure black music, where you - white? Oh, girl, sweet, refined in the soap, you do not understand the music! Oh, I would be in the studio, I would have told you that sucks switch channels ... advertising! Toggle on ... advertising! Toggle more time ... action, where is ours? Yeah, Mafia disassembly! Our everywhere! sea of fire, dead bodies, explosions. Yeah, tried computer geniuses! Stop! I believe or not my name! Yeah, Bear under the porch on his super-duper - cycling. I forgot that we have today agreed to take a ride on the slopes. My old war horse stands in the hallway. Now I'll take you, and we will rush faster than the wind ... While TV, goodbye to evening. Click! fridge not grieve for me I would like you unloaded. Sleep, flat, under the peace clock ticking, I think that parents will come from the country before me.