<Gifka: Priest beats children>
Anonymous: The Church of the life-giving cracks?
by ANON:
A terrible rescue.
Catch the lion, God does not catch.
Oh lili lili, Sunday puzzles.

Both legs are sick. I barely walk. The right hand also. The left, healthy, was not for a long time like this: they took blood from a vein, the result was a bleeding on the half-hand and pain. Now, if they are asked to do some hard work, I will answer with full right that I have a knife".)))

"reading Instagram" for me sounds like "read a pager, thought a lot"

And what the anger of an unfed hammer, words cannot convey.

Therefore, they are animals and are kept in cages.

"The cry of the soul" of a fourteen-year-old daughter in conversation with his wife:
I, almost an adult person, have been doing Aikido for many years, Aikido, above you and heavier. Soon I’ll finish school and I’m going to go to another city for school, and you’re asking me "Daughter, you’ve gotten off?and "

many do not like geometry, and I decided to build a house, here it was useful - to calculate how many materials needed and at what angle the roof to put ) the son had a textbook to argue)) or we had the main task in school was to analyze the poem of some alcoholic, what he meant there...

derived from electric acne and skates (but the latter's ass is too flat).
Arising from Mormirides and Hymnotides, on the contrary, is very painful.

You confuse the marine virgins of Western mythology with our mermaids, who have nothing to do with fish. In Slavic mythology, these are river, forest and other spirits in the face of naked girls. In fact, naked virgins are their only common trait, and further, depending on the nationality and region, they could be former drowned women, and relatives of all kinds of midday women, and even part of the row of the wives of different gods. And Fig knows which of them the poet meant sitting on the branches.

Do you bother me with a piece of bread?? to
Not just meat.

We sit with the guys, chase the famous MMORPG, talk through the RC. As they say, nothing predicted trouble.
Hill, put it up again!
Tank - (somebody to the side) take it now. (According to a female voice)
Tank, what are you doing? Oh no! Not a sick attack. I have no resistance to her! Mfurmuffu Hahauff. (Wow leaves the group and leaves the game)
1D – We have losses!! to
2d - The march of the tank suckub pulled.

I find a not very bad girl. We dress in a motorcycle. Installed in a standard motor garage.
Light, two cameras, a dictionary, a sufferer with a notepad, that’s all.
And it synchronizes the carbs, adjusts the valves, regulates the ignition on opposites, delta and other popular brands. Parallel to the twisting of the carbs, OBLIGATORY pushes the chariots in the style "no longer distinguish the jupiter from the dune"(c)
Loves, views, the established personal life of the lady.

anecdote

I help my sister with history lessons. We are going through the First World War.
Do you know who Lenin is?
I have heard his music. Do you think John?
John Lennon, that is.

Petka asks: Vasily Ivanovich, and you are for the Beatles, or for the Rolling Stones?
For whom is Lennon?

Ibn al-Jamil: It sounds like the curse of Allah.
Doc_Black: This is the name of the gin, imprisoned in the incandescent lamp by Suleiman ibn Dawud. In the first hundred years of imprisonment, he vowed to golden him who would bring him the internet. The second is to force the liberator to sit forever on the 28.8k daily. For the third hundred years he vowed to pour the whole internet in the shit of obscurity and ignorance... and it was then that he was released.

What does your dad mean?
The eyebrows

<zog_t> in order to understand what is written at this address, you need to understand the assembler
<gurman> and Google Translate to Basic is not yet translating?

analgin55: yes fucking, I am an analgin, not an anal gin

- Do you think my mom would be very upset if I turned the toothpaste covers on the closet instead of the pen? There is no hunting in the store.
The original way of suicide.

There was a blue light, a light for the blue.

Here are a few more stories from the time I was working in the staff. The first is how I did the lighting with the horse. Once I got tired of the half-dark inside, and I decided to hang another lamp: if you remember, in production such often hanged, on two daylight lamps, 80 watts each. The ceilings are not high, 2-2.20 meters, no slopes, no stairs, only a huge pot, "swarming", as we called it, with a volume of 50-60 liters, it evaporated oats. He turned around, stood on her and began broadcasting the lamp, behind the “stands” with horses, closest to Milka.

A few words about her. Milka, from the Jewish - laughing - this is the whole essence of her character: if you ride on it, then you will not admire the landscape quietly, she, in order to avoid it, just need to either bite the horse going in front, or lie down the horse behind, not so hard. And if the horse is turned on, it will become “on the candle.” At the same time, everything was done relatively innocently - she did not aim to drop the rider, or to crush the horse going from behind - she needed a "drive" whatever - it is boring to just drive. I loved riding it because I had to ride it, not sleep on a horse.

So, I started broadcasting the lamp, I stood, bending on the boiler, and I feel it approaches from behind and holds on to my "fifth point" with her ass – they were about the same level, only my one slightly higher. The first thought was, bored, she decided to sink. About what could hit, not even talk, just pushed. I pushed her, she didn’t leave. Carefully clutched on her, ready at any moment to "hop" - but no, it holds me.

Every time I climbed up, she approached me so that I could rely on her. She slipped down, left for something – she went to the side. I didn’t believe until the last time that she was helping me, supporting me while I was mounting. I thought coincidence. After finishing the installation, I tried, just so, from the boiling to rely on her, she immediately left, did not hold me. That is to say, she saw that I was very uncomfortable, decided to help, and I will say, clinging to her, it was much easier to hang the lamp.

The second story from the horse life, I told it our boss - Yuri Borisovich. Or just Borisovich. He started with an ordinary cabin at the Kyiv Hippodrom. Once brought there a young scooter from the tabun, to try it, and decide what to do with him next - either to the sport, if he shows good results, or back to the tabun.
To be in captivity is a very great stress for the dragon: here he was in the field, and here he stands in the diary. They are undergoing acclimatization for a while. Horses, by their nature, are very sensitive and vulnerable creatures. I don't know how he touched Borisovich, maybe confused by his appearance or character, he began to feed him with carrots, the good cost it then, what, 3 copies per kilogram. He is attached to him by a dragon, follows him with a tail, hides and catches between the buildings of the barracks play. They made friends, in one word.

Now the story itself - Borisovich went somehow riding on him through the Goloseevsky Park to ride, and already returned, but in trouble, in one place, the path was crossed by a broken bush. The raven refused to pass through the bushes. He is frightened, fears, and at the last moment turns aside. Borisovich tears from the horse, walked along the path, showed that everything is fine, which is not scary at all, and you can walk peacefully - it works on horses. And he will persevere and all go back, far away. 15 minutes, it didn’t help. Behind the bullshit of the booty Borisovich had a thin punch, he took it more by habit, so he did not. Psycho, he tossed him on the body. The drawer! The one immediately on the candle, and in the flight, opening his mouth wanted to bite. But as he descended on the front, something in his horse’s brains clicked – that’s a man who loves me and cares about me, what am I doing? I probably thought of the horse. At first aimed, either for the ear or for the key to grab. Standing on the front pits, he still bit him, for the third button of the shirt, slightly rubbed it and let go, went away, and with fear and confusion, began to look at Borisovich - what did I do? This confusion lasted a couple of minutes, and then he approached, stuck his mouth in his shoulder and rattled: tears in two streams, just didn't slip. He crossed these bushes, not even noticing, and he did not even try to burst down all the way back.
These are the animals, these horses.

Serdyukov and Vasilyev sit in front of the TV:
“The Deputy Prime Minister and Vice-President for the Far East, Trutnev, complained that 64 billion of the 106 billion allocated for infrastructure development were missing without a trace.”
Vasiliev, jealously breathing out:
I asked for it, but I was told that I had a poor imagination.

Sisadmin is not the one who reinstalled the wheel, but the one who removed Amigo.