Today I got a postcard from one of those places. This time it was Permskya Oblast. "Looking for my Elena. No luck so far. She broke my heart and this is an industrial wasteland so I know I'll find her. I'll put the pieces together. You better too, Pal."
I don't know what the hell Spaniels has gotten himself into. О чем, черт возьми, он говорит? He always finds these chicks who want to kill him and then he falls in love with them. He'll go bloody anywhere for a bit of Пытка сердца. And he's a liar. He'd rather have his pieces apart and all over the board than have to face it all. But that's why we get along. Anything he says, do the opposite. Most of the time he makes me crazy. He is a deserted street and I have to walk it. . .
