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gleda li josh neko Eureku sem mene i Ivana?

meni je bash simpa serija za opushtanje...

znači Eureku gledaju samo rupe, bolje da ne počinjem

03:34 ( MiGsa ) da budem iskren

03:35 ( MiGsa ) nagledao sam se ovde vishe kurcheva nego pichki

 

22:05 (Ivan_tm) Ozbiljno, tvoj i Cokin sam upamtio odmah

 

13:43 ( darko ) ja sam puco iz njegove vazdushare

 

[16:42:19] Miša says: pojavio mi se patrijarh pavle u ppl u may know

 

[21:00] <vudu> jebacemo svi

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definitivno je igrana. e, sad, možda je po istinitim događajima, knjizi nekoj ili štatijaznam...

Dakle cela serija/ knjiga je pisana po beleskama novinara koji se pojavljuje u istoj evo isecka

The Marines took a combat-stress class before the war. An instructor told them that twenty-five percent of them can expect to lose control of their bladders or bowels when they take fire. Before the war started, many in First Recon tried to get Depend diapers — not just for embarrassing combat accidents, but in case they have to wear their chemical-warfare protection suits for twenty-four to forty-eight hours after an actual attack. These never arrived, so they piss and shit frantically whenever they can.

"That song is straight homosexual country music, Special Olympics-gay," Colbert says.

Joshua Ray Person, and the vehicle team leader, twenty-eight-year-old Sgt. Brad Colbert — both Afghan War veterans — have already reached a profound conclusion about this campaign: that the battlefield that is Iraq is filled with "fucking retards."

There's the retard commander in their battalion who took a wrong turn near the border, delaying the invasion by at least an hour. There's another officer, a classic retard, who has already begun chasing through the desert to pick up souvenirs thrown down by fleeing Iraqi soldiers: helmets, Republican Guard caps, rifles. There are the hopeless retards in the battalion-support sections who screwed up the radios and didn't bring enough batteries to operate the Marines' thermal-imaging devices.

But in their eyes, one retard reigns supreme: Saddam Hussein — "We already kicked his ass once," says Person, spitting a thick stream of tobacco juice out his window. "Then we let him go, and he spends the next twelve years pissing us off even more. We don't want to be in this shit-hole country. We don't want to invade it. What a fucking retard."

A few days before moving out of its desert camp in Kuwait to begin the invasion, his unit was handed letters sent by schoolchildren back home. Person opened one from a girl who wrote that she was praying for peace. "Hey, little tyke," Person shouted. "What does this say on my shirt? 'U.S. Marine!' I wasn't born on some hippie-faggot commune. I'm a death-dealing killer. In my free time I do push-ups until my knuckles bleed. Then I sharpen my knife."

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