This is an automatically translated description

A joke for Lviv's taste. Small format.

Legions of Ukrainian language teachers conscientiously drum into the heads of Lviv children how everything should be called and spelt correctly. Computer programmes for Ukrainian spelling are going crazy, correcting the words of the Lviv vernacular at their discretion. But the kids, whether they're at home, having a smoke break outside the school or at a moonshine disco in Radekhiv, are getting richer in other verbal formulas and creating their own linguistic norms. Thanks to this, Lviv's gvara, although not quite fitting into the format, is more alive than the Poltava matrix of the Ukrainian language, and it does not lack anything. Unless gullible children ask why they should suddenly believe a book and not their grandmother, and call that marmulade jam, the frieze a hairdresser, and the butler a railway station. And why is it suddenly impossible to use "humpbacked whore" in the presence of my mother, "as grandpa always says"? That's what language discrimination is. However, no matter how you try, Artek wafers do not turn into andrutas. That's why fatset and velon, batiar and gopnik, and carmenadli and chop live in the same city. And even a fatset with a brother.

The working group asks academic linguists and other concerned language activists to forgive it for any distortions in our free book. No language, let alone Lviv's, stands still; it is getting richer and richer all the time. Some once widely used words and word meanings have sunk into the Poltva, while others, on the contrary, are slowly coming out of grandmothers' chests. Many words and idiomatic expressions had to be left out due to lack of space.