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Message: <blockquote data-quote="IKL" data-source="post: 28280637" data-attributes="member: 567503">Kitchen with Apartment 1993*<img src="https://i.imgur.com/s9CgkxM.jpg" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " style="" />- Two hours late, and they give a feeble, phony excuse, too contemptuous even to invent a good alibi!- They apologized. People do get stuck in traffic.- Apology, hell ! They just find out about traffic jams? After 40 years here, they should know. No, being late shows you're rich, and when you're famous, like him, it's nearly obligatory. You make 'em wait, then appear to the multitude.- They both flatly apologized. That should satisfy you. And they're only an hour and a quarter late, not two hours.- OK, say an hour and 22 minutes. That's still late!........................................................- I didn't expect to see you here.- I blend with the furniture. I live here. I sleep on the sofa.........................................................- We haven't seen each other for ages.- Ten years.- More than that, you don't realize. It was in...Wait, I'll tell you...exactly...It was in... 1983.- So, ten years.........................................................- Sorry, I can't explain now. The thing is...- You need money.- You said it! I'm in deep shit.- So what else is new? You'll always be in deep shit.<img src="https://i.imgur.com/LYnPd93.jpg" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " style="" />- I don't want to butt in, but something's burning.- No, that's how it smells. Do I turn it off? I could turn it off, but should I?- Depends. If it should taste burned, leave it on.- Is it meant to smell like that? What do we do?- Have a look!- Look where?- In the oven! Open it!........................................................- Lacks a little touch of love, I'd say.- Really? Can you explain that in more detail? I'd like the advice of someone perfect. You're never wrong, are you? Isn't it tiring, always being the best? You were like that in the old days: all alone on your rock, with the truth under your arm, always judging people. Ten years later you're in the same spot. You haven't moved an inch. The world is as cowardly and corrupt as ever, eh? It's an old tune, don't you think?- It's the only one I know. If you'd said yes ten years ago, you might be with me on my rock.........................................................- I took him aside, I spoke to him each time he got up. When the game got rough, he said not to worry. Each time I told him to quit, he just laughed ! To him our anxiety is hilarious!- They've both gone crazy.- You saw it: when they decided to play for money, I read them the riot act! And left. I saw it coming. I didn't want it to get nasty. I had even warned him. "Play for matches, Fred ! Friendly poker!"........................................................- I don't know what's got into you tonight. First you were all worked up, now you're acting as if you'd been wounded, somehow. You're fed up with everything. What's going on?- No it's me, my life. I'm sick of this dull life.- Did it suddenly hit you tonight, wanting to be at the heart of things? It's just a bout of depression. Happens to all of us. All of a sudden, nothing makes sense, one has no purpose. It happens without warning. It descends on you. I think it is a passing thing.*original title·····Cuisine et dépendanceslanguage······························French<a href="https://uqload.com/y4az0w561y9l.html" target="_blank"><img src="https://i.imgur.com/2kJSoUS.png" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " style="" /></a></blockquote>

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