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Oblomov goes to the gym
Oblomov is sweating
Even mistaking he was right. A lucky strike on events, on persistence would rely. Sweet and lowdown as a drug was the craving and the rush. He rebelled not being concerned, as a reasoned outburst stemming from hibernation in cage, the force of Oblomov as the Sleeping Prince. Baillie¨s child in his eyes, the forgiveness of his acts. His chins and his gums embeded the guests offering and hosting refugees from love wreck.