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Posts from Sacred Haven of Debauchery

4.3 (23 ratings)
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What shall we name the establishment?
28 voters
Single choice Public votes
This poll is closed.
“Flooding.” Simple and effective
17.9% 5 votes
Leave it as is – “Fludnyak”
7.1% 2 votes
“A den of debauchery.” How original!
39.3% 11 votes
Brewery
17.9% 5 votes
Another option (specify in the subject line)
17.9% 5 votes
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No, and what does Warcraft have to do with it?
My sword, my trusted ally, unphased by my aspect.
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Yes, just associations. It seems the server processed it differently. Don't pay attention to it.
In reply to Amko
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Vanyok returned home. But he is still sad. He misses Rostov; it was quite a nice place, and he left with difficulty... Vanyok is also sad because his ideals have changed – this is quite unpleasant, as it changes him as well. Meanwhile, he often remembers the words of MC Avetis: "Rap is a drug that gives you a serious high." This is exactly what is happening to Vanyok now.
Пара банок пива, снаряд дешевого пойла
Ракета прущего дыма и море свободы
Серьезные помыслы, прущие скорости, мама с вопросами:
- Куда ты дел совесть? Стань взрослым.
Я в ответ молчал виновато
- Посмотри на брата, разве трудно быть нормальным?
Им не понять меня, не поменять меня
Хотели поломать меня - им не поймать меня
В чем моя вина?
Думал бежать отсюда, хлопал дверями злобно -
Обида-паскуда
Мама била посуду и тихо плакала
Молилась за меня Богу - свечи ставила
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Rap is a drug.
It stops the production of "happiness hormones."
In reply to Ple-Sen
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Ple-Sen
It causes the body to stop producing "happiness hormones."

In a way, you are right...
Пара банок пива, снаряд дешевого пойла
Ракета прущего дыма и море свободы
Серьезные помыслы, прущие скорости, мама с вопросами:
- Куда ты дел совесть? Стань взрослым.
Я в ответ молчал виновато
- Посмотри на брата, разве трудно быть нормальным?
Им не понять меня, не поменять меня
Хотели поломать меня - им не поймать меня
В чем моя вина?
Думал бежать отсюда, хлопал дверями злобно -
Обида-паскуда
Мама била посуду и тихо плакала
Молилась за меня Богу - свечи ставила
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just like any aspiring, yet unsuccessful, storyteller, Vanyok talks about himself in the third person.
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Someone here is a bit too happy. They probably haven't had their ass kicked in a while.
Смысла нет, но вы держитесь там. Удачи, здоровья, хорошего настроения!
И пока в кармане пачка милкиуэйев - значит все не так уж плохо на сегодняшний день



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Rap is a drug.
This crap made Guф die.
Небо – мольбы не ждёт
Небо – угроз не слышит
Небо – ведёт особый счёт
Небо – тебя найдёт

По вопросам модерации: nebov24@gmail.com
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man, this really gets to him: /topic/at/494119/
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How are you all doing, gentlemen?
The crazy day is over, HOORAY! In the morning, I met a girl at the train station who came from the seaside, in the evening, I met my mom, and in between, I worked – it was intense, to say the least. But it's all over now! HOORAY!

"Let's fly to the most beautiful sky. No matter how many times your wings break, keep trying."©Crono Crusade

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Today, I went to a medical facility with a classmate to donate blood (we need to collect a ton of documents for the military department). We went into the office, my classmate sat down first, and the doctor silently took blood from his vein. But when I sat down, he started talking...
-Are you special? *pokerface*
I stayed silent and didn't answer. He looked at my arm, tightened the tourniquet, and said:
-Look how many girls he's been with! And many times with each! Once, twice, three times...*Lol, what? х)))*
He counted to ten (I still don't understand what he was counting), and then, while making upward and downward fist movements, he said to my friend:
-And you, are you doing it all yourself? Look, you even have calluses on your hands! *facepalm х)))*
We laughed for a long time after we left. That doctor is quite the character, he really cheered us up. And it would have been even funnier if it hadn't been a dermatology and venereology clinic...
Небо – мольбы не ждёт
Небо – угроз не слышит
Небо – ведёт особый счёт
Небо – тебя найдёт

По вопросам модерации: nebov24@gmail.com
In reply to Небо
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The joke about calluses on hands is something from around third grade.
Tomorrow holds no promises
Except the ones we've made

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