90*60*18
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IYA (thoughtfully): Means… I was right… They're all jerks. But where can I find a decent person?
EUDOXIA (thoughtfully): Listen… why don't you talk to your mother about it? She's something… I think he knows more about these things than I do. After all, she was married four times, and each time successfully, as she claims.
IYA (indignantly): With mom? Well, noooo. We are not friends, but rather competitors. I can imagine what advice she can give me…
EVDOKIA (not understanding): What? What do you mean, competitors? You're eighteen, she's sixty. What kind of competition can we talk about, Oia?
IYA (indignantly): Sixty-something sixty, but looks something she, a disease on forty!.. forty-five at most. You and I know that it's high time for her to choose a stronger piece of clothing, and the guys think that she's still in full bloom! Have you seen the photos she posts on her social media page? Eight boys have already left me for her. From me to her, you know? And you say-what competition…
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