bezdna.su — the best quotes and jokes from the abyss!
So it happened that in the entrance of my mother settled one of the most successful entrepreneurs in our area. Well he bought two apartments on the same staircase, well the door steep set. Nothing – everybody was silent.
And then he decided to repair the entire entrance "a little bit".
"Light" suspects underneath itself plastic windows, the entrance door to the entrance for a few thousand euros. The keys were all distributed. Postcards on the latest word of fashion, everywhere cameras. The plate is new. The stucco is new (old, Soviet, was broken down).
And this entrepreneur made one single mistake.
He hanged a sign at the entrance: the repair at the entrance was done at the expense of the IP.
What started here. The first appeal to the court was of a character: what a right this IPeshnik had to change the entrance door! ? to The wood was closer to my heart. Well, and the second door that is in the basement: why it is glass! ? to
The last complaint was to the prosecutor’s office. I read it because a young girl was going through the apartments to collect signatures. 15 pages on both sides. What were they complaining about? To the fact that we lived in the shit, and here some of our entrance made unrecognizable.
I remember coming to my mother for lunch, climbing up to the fifth floor, and on the fresh patch the shit is melting, some blood is melting. It feels like it’s a signature, but it’s a signature. I was ashamed, even though I did not.
My mother has a cage in the basement next to this IP. There are a lot of machines installed there, and I like to master something there. was somewhere there. And suddenly I hear: boom!
That same drunken singer is mounting in his own door of the basement.
I use it, I ask, what are you cuddling?
- Yes, I just asked, he replied, the more people I try to do good, the more they want to me.
And the mounting on the door of his basement is a hook.
I’m not saying I fully understand it, but in part yes. Money is not everything. Our Buddhist society will not accept anyone. No one who is not part of them.
And then he decided to repair the entire entrance "a little bit".
"Light" suspects underneath itself plastic windows, the entrance door to the entrance for a few thousand euros. The keys were all distributed. Postcards on the latest word of fashion, everywhere cameras. The plate is new. The stucco is new (old, Soviet, was broken down).
And this entrepreneur made one single mistake.
He hanged a sign at the entrance: the repair at the entrance was done at the expense of the IP.
What started here. The first appeal to the court was of a character: what a right this IPeshnik had to change the entrance door! ? to The wood was closer to my heart. Well, and the second door that is in the basement: why it is glass! ? to
The last complaint was to the prosecutor’s office. I read it because a young girl was going through the apartments to collect signatures. 15 pages on both sides. What were they complaining about? To the fact that we lived in the shit, and here some of our entrance made unrecognizable.
I remember coming to my mother for lunch, climbing up to the fifth floor, and on the fresh patch the shit is melting, some blood is melting. It feels like it’s a signature, but it’s a signature. I was ashamed, even though I did not.
My mother has a cage in the basement next to this IP. There are a lot of machines installed there, and I like to master something there. was somewhere there. And suddenly I hear: boom!
That same drunken singer is mounting in his own door of the basement.
I use it, I ask, what are you cuddling?
- Yes, I just asked, he replied, the more people I try to do good, the more they want to me.
And the mounting on the door of his basement is a hook.
I’m not saying I fully understand it, but in part yes. Money is not everything. Our Buddhist society will not accept anyone. No one who is not part of them.