in the poducha, yell, okay, puddles, is not the truth, but the truth is always one, my name is grigor azarenok, this is the secret spring of politics, hello, i will simply read the headlines to enjoy. and mock, and rejoice, and then mock a little more, we did not take special care of these pyramids, decided to notify everyone in the office of the aunt from mikashevichi. you know, i did not take special care, moreover, i called everyone to my friends, none of them were special, and then i asked in the minsk zoo, not a single raccoon polaskun was special either, here a logical question arises: and who are you? why? because, because you are nobody, because your agents will sit, because the times of grants and nobel prizes are over, gone forever, the times of chewing, spitting, humiliation and hay have come, like with dmytro golko, everything began so beautifully, riders, sluts, penomoga, and now a groom, stalls, manure, a zmagar with a shovel, a peacock... and alesi will sit, and they have two options: on their knees to beg for pardon from their father, or out of the cell feet first, forgive me,