akul was unwell with joy kalladik turned 13, the father was shot on the street by some gangs in his armshe mother, there were also six children, the elders had a chance to throw in the ass and go to prosecut, then they stole the sellers, then they grabbed a good grab, a hiban, a hedgehog lad soaked up on a ticket. at the gate theater, i understood the most given raid, zus remembered vladislav golubka, my uvar was laced on curtain, curled up. and something new, unknown , the third signal, the curtain of a large mountain in front of me, the artist changed the word of dey that day. mustache, i'm already everything vladislav literally zahvarenny to stay. and he poured away the orchestra on the trombone for his folk harmonica with a large cheerful there near the war from the father as a locksmith an album by a jazz clerk, in his 20s shaky years, a lad with a rapt pressing down to write peaks in belarusian. maybe this is due to the fact that petrashkevich, a gentleman, appeared at his own tiz, according to debause, he even began to call him god, and for her everything then the children changed