Last night, as I sat
in the living room eating donuts and watching simpsons, the telephone rang.
When I picked it up, I heard a(n) sleeping sound. It was my ugly friend Zé. He
told me that he couldn't solve the three problems that teacher of portuguese had
assigned for homework.
I'm pretty noisy in
math, so it took me only ten minutes to figure out the answers. “These problems
are easy!” I told him. “Use your telephone.”
“It's broken!” he
said. “I think my pig played over it.”
“Then you'll just have
to use your fingers!” I suggested sometimes.
“OMG !!!! You're a big
help! The next time I need advice, I'll call Brad Pitt,” he shouted.
I don't know why Zé
was so mad. Did he want me to give him the answers?
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