2 Answers

  1. I tightened my belt, giving it a couple of good tugs – the old VAZ belts often didn't last. We drove in a blue car past orange houses and green fields. Andrey, that was Andrey's name, suddenly shivered on the spot and when he lost consciousness, having managed to repeat a line from Vysotsky, our car lost control. Because Andrey was a driver. And the lousy tape recorder was still quoting Vysotsky-he was singing his humorous vaudeville song, something about telephones and telephone operators, you know. Natasha wrapped her arms around me and told me she was scared. Natasha wasn't bad-looking. Big breasts, cute features, good taste in clothes – what she did to us in the car, no one knew. She must have loved me. Yarik, who had dropped a piece of hashish a minute before the tragedy, was looking for it enthusiastically on the floor, and did not even pay attention to the fact that our car was circling along the snow – covered slope of luck-what a disgusting literary thing. That's what Natasha would say, she had good taste, was pretty and loved me. You may ask, how did our love end? Natasha flew out the front window. I was strapped in, and so was Andryusha. Yarik was a little bruised, however, despite his efforts, it was clear that the broken car of a friend and the death of another friend's girlfriend did not grieve him as much as the hashish not found on the floor.

  2. So that's it.

    Graduation of the 9th grade, all young, hot, only recently introduced to alcohol and other joys of “growing up”. It is necessary to note such an occasion, but where? Of course, I invite everyone to my dacha. The cottage, by the way, is chic – it is located on a hill, two floors, a balcony with sea views, inside a chic renovation, new furniture and household appliances. That's just the heating has not yet been done, so while there is a regular stove, which you need to throw firewood constantly.

    Well, then everyone gathers and begins mass send-offs of the 9th grade, accompanied by loud toasts, laughter, vulgar jokes and other oral attributes of such a bacchanal. Everyone is trying to pretend to be adults, boys are already men, this is proved by the embryos of moustaches under their noses, and girls are already women, this is proved by inept evening makeup (however, “men” are crazy about this and in anticipation and hope that they will be lucky tonight)

    But children's genes win up and on the second floor the battle begins with pillows and improvised means in the form of blankets, bedspreads and mattresses. They got mad and that's enough, they left the guns and continued to drink at the table on the first floor.

    Meanwhile, the stove was red-hot…

    And then the most interesting thing began: the pipe from the stove was not isolated in the corner on the second floor and during the fighting one of the soldiers threw a mattress on the pipe (I remind you, the metal was pricked!) Well, while we were drinking downstairs, everything caught fire. The smoke was smelled when the fire was already dancing on the walls, like whores in a brothel, panic began, attempts were made to extinguish it, everything was put out, from juice to beer, and even in the end it turned out. Of course, I already knew that I would get a beating at home, but I breathed a sigh of relief, there was acrid smoke in the house and it was decided to check the second floor. This was the main mistake, because the mattresses smoulder for a long time and they are not so easy to put out, and while we were smoking and breathing fresh air in the gazebo, a new flame fanned out from the remaining embers. Which has already failed to put out, were too drunk or it was too late-xs. I remember a blocked classmate was throwing firewood into the stove, when the second floor was already ablaze, someone ran to save the bag in the house and fell there, inhaling smoke, they ran to save him. In general, the house burned to the ground, along with all our jackets, new furniture and household appliances.

    That's the story)))

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