by Helldumbass:
The guy.
by Helldumbass:
I’ll tell you something, it’s great.
by Helldumbass:
I went to my grandmother now, to take medicine home, well, all means, went back. I stand at a crossroads, near a stop. There is a girl there, all of herself is a star. Pink cofflet, the whole face painted, painted like a mark in the march. Such a man approaches her, in a suit, in a Capo-ala mafia hat, and says:
by Helldumbass:
Girl, and I broke up.
I congratulate you.
Do you like to shoot?
You are sick, I don’t understand. Are you sick?
I like to pop. And to show. You seem to have a problem.
Why did you think I had a problem?
You are shooting?
The girls do not shoot.
- Girl, I have a wife, like a perdanet - so all the flies nearby breathe from the wheat. Here are the men - looking at the elderly and teenagers sitting next to me, including me - do you like to give up well? The people began to sneeze, agree, say they like to strike the gazka.
by Helldumbass:
“You see, girl, you seem to have trouble, since you don’t shoot and don’t crack. I have a remedy for constipation - and get out of - under payment what? Not a Thompson machine. What - the box - this * name of the medicine * will help you from any constipation! The girl did not wait, her bus came, she sat down and left with an offended face.
by Helldumbass:
These are the comedians today.