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Everyone has their own problems. All wander to scatter in their burrows, feed their pups, and tomorrow back to work, then back to the shops or taverns, and then again to his spinogryzov.
Tsoi remembered the song: “So go year after year, and life will pass, and for the umpteenth time oil drops down a sandwich, but it will be at least a day and will be at least an hour, when we’re lucky, I’m waiting for an answer, more hopeful present.” Suddenly my sad thoughts were interrupted by a low moan of procedural, what the hell? Japan chat live girl.