it’s a pity, the trashy pabudovs have burned up the sometimes limp aichynna war, adsalela only kaplіtsaagodzia. darazhenki ў we have a table on four edges, to give a gift to the devil, the need for the skin has become a bad thing, so all the first kutochak, matchmaker needs padsaladzits, padsalodzim to you, good, good, other kutochak we have for jumping young ichki, you need three padmachyts, may medavukha, on the course we need padmatsavatsa, all kaubasa to you, oh, dzyakuy, the matchmaker is a treasure trove of pennies for the healthy father ’s young ones, and you don’t waste a couple of kopeks, as much as possible pain bastards of the past, the malays, and what ў us on steel hundred the little ones need a drink, drink potassium caress, darling honey, if your life were so sweet, hell would you... karagodzik, the little ones lose a lot of smart godzikas, the little ones lose a lot shchodrykh godzikau. oh, my jumping matchmaker, we know i want it, if i’m not worth the honey. i’ll quench, when i’m not worth it, i’ll quench the drink with honey, and when we all dance, and when we all sing