Привет!
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My son had a minor incident at school which resulted in him having to visit the principal today (I met with him yesterday). He didn’t really do anything wrong, because he was only defending himself, but the language he used was a bit salty. When I think about the principal confronting him about it, I’m reminded of that scene from A Christmas Story.
I heard that word ten times a day from my old man. My father worked in profanity the way other artists might work in oils or clay. It was his true medium…a Master.
Fuck.
