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November 18 Today mom taught me to write. I write a pack is bad, but I try. Papa p. (Further illegible) selected drum. Tonight I'll eat his stash of elite hay (I know where the reptile hides). November 19th. All day was diarrhea. Writing is not a magician on November 21 Dad said it was time to beat the hooves. Family has no money. They put icebreaker. It is cheaper. The whole evening itched hooves. Cried. December 15 Uncle in masks came. They took my mother. Long looked at me. Mom was taken away on babon with the inscription "Circus". The rest of the day was listening to the Beetles "SНe leaving home". Thought a lot and cried. Dad came on late. All in someone else's manure and pretty drunk. He said he was at the presentation. I know his presentation. Again, with Pegim and Chernopop, Kaurka went to watch the racetrack because of the fence on the overseas mares. Yo-go. I saw these in the pictures in my father's magazines. Like. Excited. December 21th They brought my mother. Feathers on the head. Addicted to cigarettes, feeds only with hands (foo, with hoofs). Eats (forgive my mother) current lollipops. On the ass (forgive my mother, Burka-hooligan taught) fit some kind of leather crap, like a chair. One uncle sat on his mother and said "BUT !!!". MOM CONNECTED WITH HUMANS !!! I decided that the family for me is no longer a fundamental tool in my living space (I looked in the encyclopedia of horse breeding). The first time I drank the swamp water that my dad forgot on the table. Ygo-go, yoke-go. Crap. December 27th I am a Pony. I understood it only today. Burka-hooligan is 2 years younger than me, and has already grown by 3 heads. Found in the newspaper the word suicide. Thought a lot. I listen to the marches of Budyonny. I notice the informal judgments. I decided to apply the stamp of anarchy and the pacific. It is necessary babosov. I grow a mane. Began to smoke. I carry chewing tobacco from my mother. Burka taught me to hammer. We smoke together. Mama is anarchy, papa is a glass of dung. Dad is not home for the third day. December 31. Today is the New Year. The folder came with Blackfoot Kaurka and Pegim. All bukhii. He pulled out a tweet. Finally I will do the pacific. Mom died. From overdose candy. Uncle arrived at Babon. What is a meat cannery? I look in the encyclopedia. Bitch, Burka-hooligan, made a bong from the desired page. Expand did not. Smoked. Sorry mom. January 1 Tonight let's go to the teluks from the next stall. Burka hooligan promised to show udder. I am glad in advance. I used to see the current in the pictures. Jerking off. January 4, fell in love. Name is Murka. Ass that is necessary. Udder - four hoofs do not clasp. I licked the first time. The boys really laugh. Che to what. Looked at the Terminator. Thought a lot. Arnie - you are a real horse. January 10, Murka - turned out to be a cow. Guys, you n. (More illegible). The Hare Krishnas molested. I took to read a little book. Kama Sutra. All nah, I'm going there. Bananya, konyaki, points on the forehead. I want you. In the ass world. I want war !!! Taliban - Fareva !!! Called to New York. Threatened January 16 Came the bill from New York. Drugan say, dad, the whole city jumped. I was looking for. I was hiding in a saray near Tpruni-dead. We talked. It turns out a nice guy. It was he who brought the droves to where their father had cut them. Nekrasov wrote with him. Tprunya said so. A little boy with a bridle has died for a long time. How old is Tprune years? January 20 Tprune, bitch, lied to everything. Scientists have infected him with anthrax in childhood. Type for the experiment. Barely went out. True brains are not left. Tprunya down and goof, and pi .. (more unintelligible) nicely. I will be more closely related to friends. February 02 What the fuck. Burka-bully - skinhead. Today I will talk to him. March 14 Two days ago, came out of a coma. I can write. True hoofs tremble. Mala remember what. Daddy sent his friend with gear. Mudila, he himself probably ate half the way. Or replaced. The silo is stale. Gives yadiel. I know that. He used to be a deer. Changed orientation, bitch. Said, dad busy. Like, I got a job. Smoked. It turns out Daddy carts. Dad - Repper. I piss from laughter. March 15th. Dad - loader. Carts carries. I thought. March 23 Discharged. Stick my dad in a smart daddy. Said we go to the zoo. Let's go. Some clown freak poked a finger at me and screamed that he would write a song about me. I remember the current that the girls ponies rolls, the pony boys rolls. I told him that when I grow up I hope his ass. Aloud did not say. I love children. March 24th Daddy kicked my ass today. Found that I ate his stash of elite hay. My dad is a molecular freak. Every molecule is perverted. Again he resisted to plump with his friends, he was shorty (very unintelligible). I will go to work. April 10th. Today, with my new friend Sivka and with his dudes (they were in the clinic together), we went to the Matrix. Got grief. I want kung fu to learn. Fell in love with Pythia. When I grow up. Find and fuck. He wrote a verse: Oh, Pythia - the flower of my garden Not everyone is given cookies to bake And if you fucking awake you are very happy. Ready to pile ass ride. I want to send her. Need an address. He clarified with Bati if we had any African tribes. So what. I started writing to the Wachowski brothers. I made a tattoo on my right hoof: Pythia - I'm yours !!! R.S. Sivka - hereditary down. His grandfather kangaroo raised. Who are kangaroos? April 14 Looking for a job. They offer all sorts of .. (more illegible). What is my chief financial officer? When I was a lady, the gypsy stuck. We talked. Och nulsya near taxis. The silver bell is stolen, the trash. Forever disown the concepts of "camp" and "herd". April 25th Today, a guy came up to the streets and asked if I wanted to work in an interesting internet project. Called the address. I was high (today at the brewery we washed the tanks) and said that I agree. Said will call. What the fuck project. Ahead of May 1. We agreed with Sivka to shoot a teluh. 1st of May. Put on a red bandanna. I'm a communist now, after all. The power of the lights and no cops on. Sivka put on the Chapaev's horse mask. Well, fuck, Chapaev's horse, you can't tell. Said some relative from the knoll sent. Dissident Dick. Bourgeois urine. The heifers have disappeared by themselves. Marriages current love. I love Lenin. But I do not speak out loud. Social Revolutionaries around. May 2 ATP-niki freaks. So the liver was beaten off, that the second day I could not get up. I try not to turn on electrical appliances and light. I seek Chubais. Sivka crawled. He told me that they drove him to the Urals. Eli slipped away. Fuck this communism. I will become a Russophile, Tolstoyan Yasnopiannik. May 16th Two spirits came and a huntsman with them. They brought combat. He showed them split hoofs (mother gave birth difficult). We looked. Bellowed debt. They said to come in somehow for the belyash (ticket of this type). May 17 Freaks, it turns out I am not fit. And in the pilots? There our guys die, and I'm here? Made a list: 1. Buy a horizontal bar 2. Do not piss under him on May 24 What a Pythia fuck. Nicole Kidmin - this is a woman. Cruise - you screwed up, loharik. She may now. Target sibl. Presented by: Nicole and I - Kidman and Horse. May 25-26 Departure from excessive effects of various alcohol on the 24th. (On the highway, a car with vodka turned over. Drove a boil over, they still cannot find passengers at all. But almost all of the vodka remained. Yes, for us the horses, though not whole. They say Tprune in the accident is to blame. However, what about the bad. Goodbye Tprune. June 1, the Day of the protection of horses. Get drunk with Sivkoy as pigs. We went to the toluha to the farm. Ass from salt hurts. Hot water bottle does not save. Cried. June 18, McCartney steers unequivocally. He wrote to him on E-mail. Congratulations. What is Message Delievery Report? Is it not simple? June 26th. I called that type from an online project. Said to come the day after tomorrow. Agree? I thought I'd go. In the evening did not drink. June 28 The first experience of oral sex. Dudes - I'm an upcoming horse. The current is small. Filmed on tsyfrovik and movies. They said they will show on TV and kamputeru. Gave a poster: Pony on I ALSO CONTACT HUMAN BEINGS. This is from mom. Thought about suicide. Babosi saved me carefully in a blanket. I'll go buy a beer. July, 12. Magical green babosy. I did not think that was enough. They have the common property of breeding. (Syvkin ancestors flew over the hill with Chapito. He taught how to change them). Fuck people. Give one - you get ten. The stall looks like a piece of beef. The whole county over here swallowed. Even Burka was a hooligan. He is now in the work. Patrol. Maza is for the future. Where are the documents on the hut? July 16th They came from mentura. Showed ksivy. Type my doghouse prevents the construction of an important strategic facility. They asked to show documents for living space. Where is dad? July 20 The fifth day at the station I live. I saw Kaurka the black man. He said that Dad threw my hooves 2 months ago. Methyl alcohol from the can at the chemical plant was bred. Yes, and potatoes with McDonald's. And the ecology is also not important. I'm sorry dad. September 1 Ass. Cold blah. And why am I not a musk ox? Now he would be overgrown with wool and not steamed (not cold in meaning). September 7 Got to work at a refinery. Daddy communication former. He was at a party of some Yukas juggling or riding a bicycle. I’m shorter than some of their important type, Khodarkovsky, or something, attached trolleys with workers to the tower. What they do is not clear. Just in case, I'll ring a burke-hooligan in a mentovka .. September 11th He fell into a vat of fuel oil. Ate pumped. Now I'm black. Reread Tolkien. Decided to become a dark force. Ass smell, will not work. 20 November. I'm dying guys .. Hey, man, the will on the left in the blanket.
Timur Mikhalych and cottage.
I have a friend. Good such friend, Aybolitych name. Why? Yes, because it looks like something. So he actually works in the same trading company, not very large, but very solid. And the peculiarity of his work is that the owner of the company is Timur Mikhalych, at the same time its director and his father-in-law. Well, you know, career growth is determined, all the guy is good. But I wish you to assure he married not because of his career and not because of money. He is from a very wealthy family, so he had everything. A wedding was for love, still live happily, and in the future I wish them. So, it was this winter. Aibolitych and Marinka have 2 years of wedding, the holiday was planned in a big way. There were three days off because of some holiday, the middle of December was in general. All the fun gathered in the country at Mikhalych. And Timur, I skorfanilis before the wedding, and already during the wedding with this over-the-cheering man, we became friends, I think, stronger than with Aibolitych. At the holiday, except for relatives, only the closest friends of the family were present, including three people: Timur’s spicy friend for Afgan, Alyona’s girlfriend Marina, and I’m a friend of everyone and everything =) Day One 6 cars drove up to the fence: the sixth Audi of gray color with Aibolitych, Marinka and her friend Alena, beha X5 with Aibol brothers-sisters, Lincoln navigator with Marina’s brothers and their wives, Foltz Turan with ancestors along the Aibola line, gelding meybek with ancestors through Marina and the Tuareg with already pretty drunk with me and Spicy, and smoked Timur . The gates opened, everyone drove into a very spacious courtyard, in which there were two houses, a sauna, a garage for three cars, another old garage littered with all garbage, and several other buildings. All this was located on a very decent area, and therefore it looked more like an old manor. Kada all came out, Timur proclaimed: << So, Kin !!! So everything is unloaded and quickly get to work. Eat the hunt, uzhos. >> How he wanted to eat the parish was understood only by two Marinkin brothers, the Cator neighing like war horses before the regimental mare: << Yeah, eat, eat, eat >>. All cars were left on the street, as Mikhalych did not want to single out someone in the family. The garage was empty. All drinks were brought in, in huge quantities, as well as all kinds of non-perishable food. While all kinds of dishes were being prepared in the female half of the kitchen, the male half in the amount of 12 people watched with interest while burning birch logs in a two-meter brazier of birch logs, who did what. The weather allowed. Old men huyar kognyachok at the table. Marina's brothers poured sunshine and pig with sausages with beer, I spiced up vodka with Spyny, eating wonderful mushrooms, Timur Mikhalych, standing a little to the side, preferred mineral water and a long pipe. When the embers reached, and the table was already quite tightly packed with a zhrachka, only Spicy and I were left near the barbecue, the rest opened a feast. Since we were already almost in the gagno, turning the skewers gave us quite a few troubles. First of all, the barbecue grumbled for something, and secondly there were about 30 skewers and it was not easy to keep track of them and sober. When the kebab was folded into two large pots, instead of “Let's pour it out already”, “bitterly”, and in the house, female shouts of “Oh, fuck, fucking!” Again his roof blew off. Well fucked up !!! Oh, fucking !!! >>. Together with the front door of the house, as in the cool action movies, flew to the street Timur. He was wearing a very strange outfit: the camouflage suit was complemented by sandals, the Indian chief’s hat brought from somewhere in America with a bunch of feathers and a sports bow. - Brothers, we go on the warpath. - What are you, Timur, what the fuck path? We here with Kostyanychem have already prepared a shish kebab. - We will need food, we go to that wigwam, - said Mikhalych, pointing to the garage. “Okay, fuck him,” Spicy whispered to me, “let's go after him, otherwise the fuck knows what to expect from him under the plan, maybe we, as traitors, will scorch Schaz, we will smoke the peace pipe with him, and he will calm down, I suppose garage, Timur pulled out a few logs and made a fire. “Kuri, brother,” said Mikhalych, handing me the phone. Having smoked, Spicy suffered with us. What I knew there was a dick, but even under vodka we were cleaned decently. Five minutes later, Spyny and I had already built two spears and started sharpening arrows. - You fucking doing here? - Pale-faced, exclaimed Timur, shooting from a bow at Pasha, Marina’s brother. Arrow dug into the wall of the garage to the left of his head. He turned pale and saw Timur aiming for the second time, quickly snapped it off. - Hide your squaws! - exclaimed after him Mikhalych. - We will come soon for your scalps! I must say that the pale-faced prepared perfectly. When we came out of the garage, two hunting rifles and several male faces were already sticking out of the windows. - Timur, fuck, we will shoot. - It does not help you, pale faces. This is our land, the spirits of our ancestors will help us. - Fuck, Timur, what kind of epta ancestors, fuck, it's me, your dad, I'm not a spirit yet. We have guns, we have more and we are in the shelter. “Don't lie, pale-faced, we'll smoke you out of there.” The more you, the more scalps. We began a slow round of the house on the flank. In the house began confusion. Timur and Spicy were supposed to go into the house from the back door, and I had to ward off the enemy who ran from the shelter as far as possible from him, in order for us to take a more advantageous position. At that moment, when Pasha flew out of the house screaming with an arrow and an arrow in his ass, Spicy wild cries excited such chaos and fear in the house that people ran out of hiding without waiting for a personal meeting with the manganians. The second, oddly enough, Timur's father, who was tempered in the battles of the Second World War between other things, with a metal tray in one hand and a hammer in the other, had eaten away. All the rest jumped out. And Spicy with Timur triumphantly croaked. Retreating made a terrible mistake: they locked themselves in the garage. Now they had no way of retreat, and there were already one less of them. The only door went out to the courtyard, the gate and two windows were also viewed from our side. An hour passed, during which we had time to eat, than God sent, at the request of the besieged, removed the wounded Pasha from the battlefield, providing him with dressings and locking together with the female team in the cellar and once again smoking the pipe of the world. “You can't leave them there at night.” They can think of something, I know the pale-faced people, they are very dangerous, Timur said. - You need to smoke them out. (God - why did I say that?) It was decided to throw them with incendiary arrows. Unfortunately, one of the arrows hit the paint can, as it turned out later. To extinguish the fire the besieged failed and they asked for mercy. Timur looked sweetly at the blazing garage. For some reason, he was very pleased with this spectacle. Spice and I tied the prisoners and danced around the dance of death. “We burned their temple, they no longer dare to attack us.” Their gods will turn away from them. The further words of Mikhalych were drowned out by a wild roar. When the roar stopped. Voices from behind the gates began to scream so that we would open the gates. But it was not there. We said that the pale-faced cleaned, and themselves prepared for defense. But suddenly, strange gizmos with yellow people rose above the gate and began to pour water over everything. Timur vainly spent all the arrows to knock people off high gizmos. But not a single arrow hit the target. - Yes, this asshole shoots at us !!! They were there all hunted, stoll? Call the cops !!! The arrived policemen found three nektykayuschih three Indians sitting in a dirty black pool in front of the smoking remains of the garage. Eight pale white captives sat in a circle. The cops have promised that they will take prisoners and leave in peace. But we made sure that the pale-faced people could not be trusted, they bound us and took us inside the iron horse. Day Two After waking up in a familiar room, not at all surprised by this fact, I got up, got dressed and went to the bathroom. In the corridor, I met with the interested eyes of Alena. Bosko was buzzing, that was remembered yesterday by excerpts. Under the shower, summing up the obtained pieces of memory, I concluded that we were drunk in war games. Here, I think, torn that. It is necessary? I went down, opened the freezer, took out a misted bottle. I drank a glass. He smoked, it became better, but for full coming to the senses it was needed pigko. That in the house was not. Well, fuck, I'll go to the garage. Put on some kind of jacket, stuck in the shoes. I've left home. In the courtyard of the rink, and the ice is black. Garage fucked, men sit in the gazebo and drink. - Here it is, shit! Look! - Hello, and what is this? - Nitsche, yopta, Chingachguk. Who there fucking yesterday incendiary arrows started? - what are the arrows you what? He came up and put beer in his hands. Sat down, lit up. Then the people began to tell all the details of what happened yesterday. When I was filled with hysterical laughter, Timur went out into the street. - Oh, yopta, leader! God of war, his mother. Father almost yesterday fucking killed fuck - Dad, what are you? - Nitsche, fuck. Less smoking your filth is necessary. Not a tower at all. Timur povtykal, looked at the garage. His face twisted, apparently under the influence of memories. He came and sat down beside him. After half an hour of stories, we found out that the grandfathers bought us from the cops for a box of vodka. On the porch of the second house got out Spicy. Pasha saw standing. The female population tried not to appear on the street. Closer to dinner, everyone fairly hung over and started to continue the holiday. Everyone sat down at the table, the young ladies had already fled from yesterday’s evacuation in the basement. Started banal booze. Again, toast one by one, again zhrachka. Again fun. Again, all drunk. Next to me sat Valera, brother of Aibola. A man from the ranks of biker fans. We decided not to disturb the people, to continue the conversation about the bikes on the porch that interested me. I brought along a bottle of votka, a bowl of a slaltik, two piles and a fork. They started talking to the point that the battle was over, and I came for the second kada, Timur and Spyny looked at me, cheerful and drunk and, apparently deciding that it was boring at the table, they decided to go on the porch with me. Probably see what's so interesting there. Hearing that the conversation was about motorcycles, Timur suddenly sped that he also drove decently as a child. And when he began to tell Valera about how he ejected from the cops of the Soviet period at a speed of about 180 km / h in the Urals, he doubted the veracity of Mikhalych’s speeches. Mikhalych was a man of principle. - What are you, salaga? Do not believe? - I do not believe, Timur Mikhalych. - Well, you go ahead. Come on, let's follow me. We walked up to the old garage, when Timur opened the gate, we saw piles of all sorts of trash, in which Valera felt two motorcycles with his eyes: Java and Ural. - I certainly don’t know how they are. I haven't approached them for ten years, but they should be on the go. - Schaz see. Valera was dug in the garage. We fingered him for about twenty minutes, well, and decided to leave the master, enthusiastically sorting out motorcycles. By evening, Valera fell into the house. We did not have time to tumble into the mind, and Valera, after drinking a little white cup, said: “Well, that's it, both of you are on the move.” Of course your wheels are good, uncle Timur, but 180 will not do them. - And we will check it. Motorcycles were loaded on two bodies: on one with Spicy, on the other poor Valera with Timur. We rolled onto the road along the skating rink left after extinguishing the fire. The road went to the horizon. - Smatri, yopta. We right now take off fucking like falcons nah. - Pagnali, Timur. I was the last time before Afgan was rolling around, ”said Spicy. We went to accelerate. The road was straight and long. On the sides swept the fields, villages, pillars partly fucked up. Point plays pedets. - Fuck, Spicy. Good, we already have a hundred feet on the speedometer !!!! - What? Kostyan, such a fuck above eighty is not accelerated. This speedometer is broken. !!! - Are you sure?!?! - Yopta, offend !!! We caught up with Timur. Timur smiled threateningly. The speedometer was 170 km / h. Valera, flattened by the wind ebalom tried to portray a smile. I tried to control myself. But then I saw a dangling cable on a nearby motorcycle. - tIIIIimUUUUUr !!!!!!!! - CHOOOOOOOO ???? - TOOOORMOOOOAAAA !!!! - CHOOO ZAAAAA ???? - TOOOORMOOOOAAAA !!!! - naAAAAhUUUUU ???? - NEEEEEUUUUUUIIIIIIh UUUU vAAAAAAs !!!!!! - DAAAAA EbAAAAIIII !!!!! - Etooooyy shchyAAAAz EbAAAAneOOOOOoshsyaAAAA !!!!!!! Timur bit lowered the gas. Slowly fucked on the brake. No effect was finished. He pulled the brake. No return. Valera okhuevshiy from such a funny incident, recoiled from Timur. At this point, he apparently thought that even if they survive, Timur will kill him fuck. It was necessary to check everything. And forget about the brakes. From this ebanicheskogo ride all instantly sobered up. The speed dropped 20-30 kilometers. But Timur did not dare to fall. Ahead was a crossroads, beyond which was a white field. “Right now we’ll cross the intersection, slow down the field quickly.” - Ok, we are yours. We drove to the intersection. And here from where the nivozmis van takes off. There were only two options: either gazanut and have time to slip, or gazanut. Turn at this speed was unreal. Since Mikhalych had no brakes, respectively, the choice disappeared. I had to add a good one. And here we are at neebovoy speed rushing through the intersection. Timur went to the field, we also drove parallel to them on the right. For some reason, on the Timur field, I didn’t lose much speed. We started to slow down and it comes to us. - It's a fucking lake !!!!!!!! - Fuck !!!!!!!!!!!!! Valera waved his hands. I took it as a farewell forever. But suddenly he realized that he was waving not at us, but as fucked fishermen. Those okhuevali from such impudence. Some fagot with a roar on the motoka rushes through their place of fishing. Nibble it scares. -nAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-hUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU !!!!! - came from the lake. The fishermen bounced off the approximate trajectory of the passage of our comrades, realizing that you did not particularly turn on the ice. And then I saw something fantastic: the lake ended with an ascent. You understand the shore. Have you ever seen the launch process of an artificial Earth satellite? And I, yes! Timur flew up about 6 meters and went parabola into a snowdrift sized snowdrift, the bike went lower, hit the snow and rolled on, and Valera was the least fortunate. Since he acquired the same acceleration as Mihalych, and weighed two times less, he stretched much higher and much further, and with a wild roar flopped into the young spruce forest. I ran through the snow to Timur, Spicy fucked for Valerik. In the frosty air, whistles and applause were heard. I probably would have died with laughter if it were not my friends. Although even taking into account this circumstance, the smile was breaking through - So they pidaram, don't fucking drive like mad !!!! - Well, fuck, ahueli savse. All fish scared !!!! - But how small flew, and ??? - Aha bygaga, eagle, fuck !!!! - A fat ?? Already the ice trembled when he yobnulsya !!! - Bygagaga. Timur lay without moving in the snow on the chest. He was extremely lucky that he went into the snow feet first. Five minutes I brought him to his senses. Kagda woke up, fired at me with a questioning look: - And how are you here ??? - Yopta, how, how ?? What up came running after you. - Huyase, do you see the light of the tunnel? - Yeah, fuck. Lifetime subscription !!! Yes, you live fucking. - I do not smell the fucking legs !!! - Well, I suppose I broke it. - Dick knows. Come on, help me out already, but it's cold already. At this time, 20 meters (according to the story of Spicy). A band was cut in a spruce grove, as if a meteor had fallen. Poor Valera was lying on bent Christmas trees. The position of the body betrayed numerous injuries. - Fuck my mouth. - Mmmmmmmm. - Fucking pizdets - umuuuu - Ebanis - aaaaaaaaa Firs were pulled out of Spicy root. Picked Timur out of the snow, checked for fractures. Since then, I call him a man-safe. Timur was intact. Of course, everything hurt him, but nothing seemed to be broken. Spicy dragged on the trees Valera. To say honestly, it did not matter. I ran to catch the car. Caught an old constipation. They asked to take those who had been born to the hospital. Grandfather agreed for 100 rubles. We Spy and I fucked up the whole motake home for the documents. Rushing fucked up. The gates were open. We enter the gate. Spicy presses on the brake. Zero effect. Kobass starts us on the ice. Here we understand that we do not have time to slow down, but in front of us, about twenty meters from the old garage. We jumped one way, in a snowdrift near the house. Landed like nothing. But the motorcycle drove through the gate, flew into the garage. We shook off. All ooooo. - What happened? - Where is Timur? Where is Valera? - Fucked Valerie, Timur seems to be in a party. They are in the hospital. Take the documents quickly and to the hospital. Girls: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAy, what the hell is that ??? Ahh !!! Ooy !!! Men: Harosh yell fools. No one seems to have killed yet. There was a loud bang from the garage, after a few seconds the garage was in flames. The garage crackled. I was neighing. I had a psychosis. Fifteen minutes later I was successfully delivered to the house and unsuccessfully consoled by Alena, fucked up vodka. After a while, Pasha and Spicy joined me. Pasha saw standing. Alyona tried to ask us about what had happened, we clinked silently. Five minutes later, Alain was sent to the place where she actually wanted. I woke up closer to eleven. I picked up an ebnik from the table. Spicy slept under the table. Pasha saw standing. Timur sat opposite, silently fucking tequila. - Well, what about him? - Yes, fuck? Well, that was drunk in shit. There are three fractures of physical damage. The leg is left in two places and the right arm is in the forearm. But morally killed to death. On the bike, he will never sit down again. His temples turned gray. - Fuck, I'd probably all turned gray. Silently clinked, woke up Spicy. Having decided, apparently, that this world is not as beautiful as we would like, this two-meter monster poured the remnants of Tequila into itself and fell back. - Fuck, but I was told about the garage, fucked up, I was laughing. - Да бля, я сам рыдал в истерике. В разговор вступил Паша: - Вы то еще ладно. Вы бы знали как ржали пожарники, когда приехали на оч ередное пожарище. Кто-то им рассказал про ваши приключения на озере. Они просто в истерике тушили. - Дааааа Менты не приезжали? - Приезжали. Посмотрели на все это поганище. Поржали, забрали два ящика водки и уехали. - Суки!!! - Бля, вам срок могли дать за такую хуйню? - Who? Эти обормоты? - Well yes. - С ними майор был? - Yeah. - Усатый такой, да? - Well. - Так это бля однополчанин мой бывший. Мы с ним и с Пряным весь Афган бок о бок прошли. Травы с ним тонну выкурили, а ты, посадят. Побухать им захотелось, вот водку и тарят. Ладно, впизду пошли спать День третий Проснулся я утром, рядом с Аленой. Она уже не спала. - Эх, ты.. Алкаш - Чо такое то? - Че, че? Допился Уж и не стоит бля - Да ладно не стоит? Ты вот сюда посмотри Я приподнял одеяло. Утренний стояк делал свое дело. Алена улыбнулась и хищно прыгнула на меня. Я охуел, такие пелотки попадаются не каждый день. Я в первый раз кончил минуты через две наверное. Перекурив мы продолжили. Минут через 10 еще палочка. Она подошла к зеркалу, нагнулась. Сигарета сама потухла. Я как увидел эту задницу в таком аппетитнов варианте, сразу же аж подпрыгнул. Минут через 10 еще палочка. Ну все, подумал я, хорош пора бы и в душик сходить. Направился туда, а она такая за мной. - Я с тобой. - Ок. Под душиком еще разок. Заебись утречко, подумал я. Оделся, спустился вниз. Народ уже завтракал. Я решил сперва прогуляться за пивком. Вышел на крылько, в зоне обзора виднелись два сгоревших строения. Зайдя в одно из них, обнаружил всего четыре ящика пива и один водки. Мысли путались, неужели можно выжрать стока водки за двое суток?? Если менты забрали три ящика. То мы получается должны были выпить столько же. Взяв обгоревший ящик в руки, попиздряшил в дом. В доме сидело все семейство. Завтракали кто чем. В дальнем углу закусывали Тимур и Пряный. Паша пил стоя. Женщины и поправлялись винцом. Старики фигачили коньячек. Поставив ящик напол, я присоединился к мужикам. Плотненько позавтракав, Тимур объявил банный день. Я с Пряным пошел топить баню. Баня была хороша. Два бассейна, один с ледяной водой метра три на три, другой 10 на 4 с теплой водой. Большой зал для отдыха. Две парилки, сауна, бильярдная с двумя ахуитительными столами. На втором этаже комнаты <<отдыха>> и спортзал. Заебатая в общем баня. Через два часа все протопилось. Правда большинство народу уже пережрало так, что баня им грозила сердечным приступом, посему они предпочли просто помыться. Самые стойкие же, отправились в парилки. В одной парилке сидели я, Тимур и Пряный. Паша стоял. Плотненько похуярив друг друга вениками, мы выбежали из парилки и хлюпнулись в ледяной бассейн. Когда красный Паша только прыгнул в воду, мы нырнули обратно в парилку. Паши долго не было. Выскочив из парилки во второй раз я только в рыжке заметил несчастного синего Пашу, дрожащими руками цепляющегося за перила уже у самого выхода. Нога то у него не шевелилась, а на одной ноге трудно было ему по скользкой лестнице скакать. Паша опешил. Я летел в него траектория была такова, что я просто обязан был его снести. Но Паша неожиданно пригнулся и я проехал по его спине жопой. Плюхнулся в бассейн, вынырнул. Потерпевший повернулся ко мне: - Бля, Костяныч, ну ты бы смотрел, куда прыгаешь то - Сорри Паш, я че-то так разогнался, что когда тебя увидел уже поздно было. - Ну ладно хуй с тобой. Вы че-то в этот раз все время сильно разгоняетесь. В этот момент я услышал хлопок и почувствовал пиздец. В Пашу влетел Пряный, соответсвенно в меня влетала уж общая масса. Я медленно уходил ко дну. Я понимал, что нужно всплывать, но ни руки ни ноги не шевелились. Вдруг кто-то меня дернул за ноги и вытащил вертикально вверх. Я видел здоровые исцарапанные ноги Тимура. - Может все-таки на пол то опустишь? - А, ну да, щаз. Ты как? - Ну вот теперь лучше. Правда говорят: <<Пиздец приходит незаметно>>. После парилки, мы дружно сидели в зале и хуярили анегдоты. Пиво и креветки были в избытке. Девчонки, еле прикрываясь простынками, танцевали под музыку. Щастье есть, подумал я. Хорошо, хоть и болит все, что пиздец - Алён, не хочешь в бильярдик поиграть? Шарики покатать? - Можно и поиграть. Только поднявшись на второй этаж, я неглядя кинул ее прямо на стол. Начал дерзко и жестко ебать. Некоторе время спустя я вытер член об простыню и прыгнул к милой. На меня сматрело довольное ебало владельца Навигатора Вити: - Хорошо ты ее отжарил. - Бля, кто это? - Не боись, Алён, щаз разберемся. Иди вниз принеси пару пива. - Хорошо. Алена ушла. - Ну что, бля, онанист ебучий? Подрачиваем на чужие удовольствия? - Да ты че? Ты че? Ты кий то брось. - Бросаю. Кий попал ему прямо в башню по касательной. - Ты что же это? Where? BUT? Наверх поднялся Тимур. Схватил меня за руку и толкнул вниз. - Иди. Еще мне тут травм нехватало. Пиздуй. Я щаз сам поговорю. - Дядь Тимур, а может он останется? Парень понимал, что поговорив с Михалычем, его шансы уйти целым реально падают. Но я ушел. Сверху раздавались удары шаров о стенки. Михалыч решил поиграть в тир. Мы пошли еще раз попарились, помылись и пошли в дом. В доме до сих пор продолжалась пьянка. Старики уже пели какие-то песни. Женщины о чем-то сплетничали. Стандартное такое время препровождение. Ближе к шести часам вечера мы все собрались. Разбрелись по машинам, все закрыли и поехали. Отъехав от дачи на метров на двести Тимур вдруг покраснел и начал ржать. Мы с Пряным повернулись назад баня полыхала.