We live in Peter. My mother brought meat home 10 years ago, she says she bought pork in a barrel on the corner. She washed, pulled off, said again, here are the bastards, washed with vinegar, and they said it was fresh! Well, they started to roast the strawberries, and they smell terribly. I came out of the room, smelled and said, “You, mother, what do you want to say, but at least it is a stinking pig, and the maximum... Leave the bowl.”

Then I ran to the barrel and asked, not a pig? The mentions are already there. That’s how we barely get Hannibal.

In general, I collected all this good together with pots and scissors and mints carried. How many people have eaten is unknown. It was very long ventilated, the mother green walked, the younger didn't tell anything.

Easy to get rid of, I can say.

Discussions about the split are welcomed