P4el0pvkety building, Ukraine

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Saturday morning, my wife and I are driving towards Moscow. A foreign car with a "cheerful" driver overtakes us at some kilometer, he starts rearranging in front of us from row to row on a rather empty road, it means he's naughty. My wife, who is quite restrained in general, utters a murderous phrase: This bastard, where his balls roll, he goes there!