409
To have fun
I - for the division of labor. I can be quite advanced user
PC, but I never climb in its interior - it has spices. Same
and with the machine. The fourth year is quite good ride, but never even
I look under the hood - the case of masters.
Yes there hood, I never even she did not fill the machine, because almost
everywhere there are the boys - the staff, they still do
It is better than me. So, yesterday in my car something buzzed. I
I know that if the muffler came off, it would have resembled the roar of an airplane,
and then quietly so, but alarming. I come service your
Automaster. He listened, listened, looked somewhere, and then
tells me when all honest people (imagine the hours of 8 pm,
full of customer master right there is acquired, and all - men):
- In your pants laying burnt. Climb to the pit, I'm
will change.
Stop your involuntary glance below the navel, I could not.
Lightning flew the idea that a lot of men around, and he's ... But for
my money ... Confused only the word "burnt," but I took it down to
tedious and unbearable July heat. In general, I was offended. Said
Master Sasha:
- Lucky for you, you got me. Another is for the face could
give.
And proudly walked away on his machine humming despite the surprise
Sasha's eyes. Half an hour later my cell phone rang and Sasha, apologetic
tone, which was traced barely restrained laughter to attacks
tears began to explain that the pants - it's such a part in the car that he did not
I meant nothing and so on. In general, the same half hour until
I hurt going home, he and all present alongside the men first
trying to understand what hurt me and then tried to stop
to laugh, to get the keys of the phone and call me. Cool
fun!
PC, but I never climb in its interior - it has spices. Same
and with the machine. The fourth year is quite good ride, but never even
I look under the hood - the case of masters.
Yes there hood, I never even she did not fill the machine, because almost
everywhere there are the boys - the staff, they still do
It is better than me. So, yesterday in my car something buzzed. I
I know that if the muffler came off, it would have resembled the roar of an airplane,
and then quietly so, but alarming. I come service your
Automaster. He listened, listened, looked somewhere, and then
tells me when all honest people (imagine the hours of 8 pm,
full of customer master right there is acquired, and all - men):
- In your pants laying burnt. Climb to the pit, I'm
will change.
Stop your involuntary glance below the navel, I could not.
Lightning flew the idea that a lot of men around, and he's ... But for
my money ... Confused only the word "burnt," but I took it down to
tedious and unbearable July heat. In general, I was offended. Said
Master Sasha:
- Lucky for you, you got me. Another is for the face could
give.
And proudly walked away on his machine humming despite the surprise
Sasha's eyes. Half an hour later my cell phone rang and Sasha, apologetic
tone, which was traced barely restrained laughter to attacks
tears began to explain that the pants - it's such a part in the car that he did not
I meant nothing and so on. In general, the same half hour until
I hurt going home, he and all present alongside the men first
trying to understand what hurt me and then tried to stop
to laugh, to get the keys of the phone and call me. Cool
fun!
