Poetess : I saw my name written on the sky.
Inner voice : in what language?
Poetess : it was a line and a dot on top.
I guess in English.
Inner voice ( reading instructions for pasta): stir before flipping over.
And how it supposed to work?
Stir parshally ...I have one piece of pasta and one spoon here.
May be I should make holes in the spoon.
Poetess : what kind of receipe is it,
When you have to make holes in the spoon to cook it?
How much stupidity in the world...
Inner voice : you are right.
