I am convinced that this guy who gives out of tune yelling in the streets announcing their gas commodity is a type of the most honorable, but to me it gets on my nerves. There must be a way to proclaim the genre without breaking the relative peace with the rough mid-morning show that lung capacity and repeated a thousand times monotonous and inarticulate cry. The sadly defunct sharpener least melodious graced the launch advertising that made him so famous playing a kind of harmonious wail and howl and worried about providing a certain melody to your message, but here the uncle of butane it mounted a capella and accompanied by their shrill voices only the percussive noise caused shaking in the same truck the by some explosive canisters and making collision among themselves or with the metal structure that holds them but I will not protect your hands and beating them with that from the privileged balcony and helps me take care of me looks watchman identified as an iron bar.
mean. I've always admired those titans and mono fatigue and tolerate his expansiveness and bellows as he supports the quirks of genius in exchange for being able to enjoy their feats of physical strength, someone able to load one of those heavy things orange shoulder and come up with her four-story walk without breaking a sweat is bull to do with their vocal cords so he wants to vent and emulating Tarzan and redundant hysterical whenever it sees fit. But is that the bottles of today weigh nothing, are as large and silver cans of beer and any weakling could lift one in each hand and two to take home as if instead of bottles filled with fuel dangerous they were a couple of confident students. That deprives the butane as an excuse for their misdeeds and places it in the same ontological category that young fly over the paved streets of the city night riding motorcycles rigged with no exhaust pipe and becomes entitled to the plain and legitimate hatred of all good citizens.
No excuse or reason for so much abuse. Modern cylinders are so light that girls in the convent school could peddle like cupcakes to pay the inevitable next weekend trip initiation course, and I am sure that if they punished us with these uncouth howl to offer the Mandanga us not only not buy it but that we would run a hundred per hour which herd of graceful gazelles availing ourselves of our greatest physical size and a broom. It is not just that these old heroic men continue to live on income and enjoying the privileges granted to them as payment to the tremendous, incredible athletic feats of the past, we require them to integrate effectively into the community and not punish us more with these disruptive behaviors today and for cyclical reasons we have
tolerated. Spain has always raised
bottles of twenty kilos. If today we are Europe and we spent the lightweight aluminum container and have given up the flashy but unsophisticated orange is also time to adopt the tone of voice remained manner and content of our neighbors to the north. The butane must not forget its old mantra and get used to politely call the bell and use the door entry system, device that decades ago it stopped being a novelty and we all have a civic duty to learn to drive soon. I have taken the first step and I have the inaugural stone of the work of the toll road must lead to peace and harmony: just need someone with the capacity for public relations and persuasion, people skills and waist to avoid the hypothetical Claymore drawn in the air with his fist that holds the perhaps not so light silver canister down the street so even the truck and place the bell the cat strong and virile.
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