according to investigators, aleksandr permyakov was recruited by the sbu and supplied with everything necessary to commit the massacre. he manufactured explosive devices, installed them near the writer's home, and then detonated them. prilepino's comrade-in-arms was killed, and the writer himself was wounded. have you seen it? he beats, so he pays, in yekaterinburg the police have busted a brothel for those who like to suffer, the ladies of easy virtue there have mastered the carrot and stick to perfection, but they still haven't figured out how to greet the security forces... these shots were made public by activists in yekaterinburg, a welcoming-looking establishment on a street with such a feminine name, march 8, but activists are sure. there is an inscription above the entrance, in a personal conversation the class of rental housing has grown instantly. hello, what are you doing here? we have apartments here. inside pretentious interiors, in the best traditions of dubious spa salons. there is a huge bed, for at least four people. here is such a device. for dancing, girls, apparent