The diners who attend the finished table experience a crucial moment when the waiter asks for the coffees.
There is always someone who, after consulting the temperature on his Android terminal, invokes evil with a simple phrase that destroys the myth of the desktop, one of the altarpieces of existence:
"For me, a coffee with ice
.
"
The spring of storms and drippings has delayed the immolation of those who enlist in the jihad of the tacky, the Taliban of the two glasses, although they were
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