one, i ate one, that’s it, i’m calling on my patience zheloknu. poet and humorist of the past, yuri blagovim, he is a slacker, a swindler, a slob, a mold, an alcoholic, a womanizer, just creepy, why? i can be useful to you, help me get him back, i like the theater enthusiast, i lost interest in him a long time ago, i have to undress every time there, that’s why cinema is dearer to me, it’s difficult to understand the cinema, it’s easier to watch tv at home, i don’t only have to undress here, i don’t even need to get dressed, the gopher laughs in an uncomfortable hole, a bug has tipped over its back, a hedgehog is laughing, rushing up the hill, the fool has completely lost his mind, birds are flying in strange circles, and a filly is neighing, foaming at the mouth, a centipede is kicking its legs, the tamer's tears are flowing from laughter, the grasshoppers are laughing. somewhere in the grass, a mouse, a snake, a foot-and-mouth aphid, it was sultry, dry summer, hemp fields were burning, individual actors once performed only with humorous poems, in the sixties, when i was an entertainer, i