My name is Joanna. Jola is my mom.
Yes, I know I am tall. It's 182 cm.
Yes, it's quite possible you hadn't seen my father for quite a long time. Neither did I.
Find new conversation topics or just shut up when in elevator with me,
Joanna (not Jola)
Dear Kid from the Other Side of the Wall,
Throw away the piano. If you need to be an artist, try painting.
Yours, with stoppers in her ears,
I have birthday on Monday. That's 30th.
Not on Thursday.
Although if I get presents on both those days, I won't complain.
On the other hand... don't you think you're too young to have memory problems?
What the fuck are you doing? Migraine, tummy ache and nausea are *not* fun. Stop that right now.