Barbad farahani
Montag, 6. Januar 2025
2004, my friends, was really more dangerous: Apparently we can't make it clear to you: we don't want you here, on my soil no one rises from the ashes, no pig and says I'm somebody! spö, very dangerous people
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آقا میگم این ملک اقدس ما هم دیوونست، ۸ سال پیش قمبلی برشته هنوز داشت میگفت به یکورم، حالا تخته خورده به برشته پدرسوختش داره واسه ما گریه میکنه: باری جون من باهات بودم همیشه دوست داشتم، نتونستم، نمیشد همه بدبخت بودیم، من نبودم واست باری جون... حاااا، پس ۶۵ سالت شد!؟ ، به جون تو، تا قطره خون جوونی به ما خیانت میکنن، تا خون در رگ هاشون میجوشد میگه: من وننه و لله؟ نه ببه! باری جون پپه..
In the 70s at the age of 24, my uncle DAVOOD bought a house with two floors and a yard in southern Tehran, through bookselling and antiques trading, his knowledge was unlimited, it started: he smokes opium, he smokes heroin, he is addicted , he is a bad person. Ultimately it was all because of this: no one in the family had a son like Davood. nobody is from our tribe. all were poor until the age of 50 or until today
Son of the bitch in Iran, has become an organizer too with the Iranian government, instead of reducing this fascist country to powder after 25 years of holocaust secret camera system, Iran blackmails Austria to continue the action. That is also the reason why I am alive, Dirty fucking luck in a dirty fucking miserable situation
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