While ambling to my Physical Science class today (so cool) I stepped into the Clyde Building and walked passed a hurried young man talking on his cell:
"Yeah I've got shlovnik and salzkov. Yeah"
Because I was stomach-eating-itself hungry at the time I imagined that this gentleman had not one but two different varieties of Russian sausage which he was taking to an undisclosed location that he would soon disclose to me via text message.
But then I realized that there's the unfortunate chance that he was telling his mother that he has developed two painful and odious skin afflictions, contracted during his studies of Russian housepets.
Or perhaps the words should be capitalized and italicized to become his favorite two albums from the year's premier Ukranian emo group (whatever that might be).
At any rate, I'm glad I don't know Russian. It would simply ruin the fun of going to BYU, of walking to Physical Science class, of a day otherwise spent in a bit of a haze. Imagine if I actually knew for certain that this young man was explaining to a friend that he has "classified information"(shlovnik) and "wherewithal"(salzkov). Then what would I do?
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