Not my own, the oldest friend said.
About Santa...
Recently, with classmates gathered, a table in a restaurant for the fifteenth anniversary of graduation of the university was ordered. We sit, eat and listen to music. We talk conversations. The people of fifteen people gathered, everyone tries to talk to everyone and at the same time drink alcohol for spiritual lift. I see, Vitya sits, eats, but does not drink, and likewise laughs with everyone and supports the conversation. And as far as I remember him from the institute, he was like a vacuum cleaner, all that pulls used. I sat down to him and said, “You’re chao, brother, you’ve wrapped up, right? Do you use antibiotics? Why don’t you drink?”
For two years no drop in the mouth, no centimeter anywhere, as they say.
Let’s go smoke.
I went out into the air and said to him:
Tell me in which sect did you get caught? (I refused to smoke a cigarette)
I have a construction company. As I lifted her up, I saw everything. Stress every day, of various kinds, nerves kilometers on the construction left. Not until the personal life was when eight years ago things went to the mountain, decided to give birth to a child. Said is done. His son was named Pashko. Nothing for him and his wife regretted, the toys are the best, Disneyland, all the business. Good money is enough. And two years ago, on New Year's Eve, I told him to write a wish and put it under the tree (it was already taught in Sunday school). And you know, at midnight, when he was already asleep, I approached the tree and read his wish. I thought he was there puzzling an iPhone or something new-fashioned. and NIHRENA. There was written, “Dad Maroz Hachu Tobi Papa bRosil Drink and Smoke.” That’s what you have to do, brother.