The vodka cost eight.
We will not stop drinking anyway.
Send to Gorbachev -
10 on our shoulders.
If it costs more,
We do what we do in Poland.
It will cost twenty-five
Let’s get winter again!

Non-alcoholic weddings - such a "Soviet creatifcheg", was the main feature, for youth and adolescents. The ranks in the wine and vodka shops and departments stood from the morning, until the closure, with an indispensable morder on the subject:
"Give this goat in the hat in the eye, it did not stand here!" the people were fooled, fiercely, but did not stop drinking. Sugar began to be sold by coupons - even those who drank intelligently "on holidays" became self-drivers.

At that time there was a celebration in my family. Now I counted, I realized it was my mother’s birthday. Well, how not to note if the berries again?
Birthday in the summer. In June. And everyone remembers. And everyone will come. And vodka to get it is not so easy, but by calling Ivanpetrovich, Jurborisych, Zinochka, Ludmila, Vasilandreevich, the father broke five bottles of vodka. And the wine? The wine was promised to be brought from Tbilisi by a Georgian parent who was gathering for Mom’s birthday. Talking to a neighbor.
Witka-Chinese (da-da-da - the most real Zhang Yong Deen, and in the common people referred to the "Vitka-Chinese" - it is now no Chinese in the vast lands of the Motherland will be surprised, and then!...Dad came home upset. The whale convinced him that five and a half liters “yes, what is there to drink?”
Then came the second neighbor, the Uncle. Rosemary, good-hearted, with a glued cigarette to the lower lip, forever under a small puddle - the legendary Daddy. The Dyatoli's nose was issued by an expert on the issue that arose in our family. On a tiny, moving face, with pale blue eyes, gray-brown-brown eyebrows, chewed in pink veins with cheeks, he torched. The nose. The delicate color. Large, flesh-like, slightly with a left-handed inclination, and a grown from it. The nose was like transplanted from another face, so did not fit in the parameters...

No to Shadow! I’m not sure, but five bottles will not be enough. Self Cooking
must be! In the eyes of my uncle, he and I focused, as if
bowing over the nose, I gave out - you have a chemist's son-in-law - let him sleep.
bring a refrigerator from work, a snake, I will help you - we will collect
The machine, and there will be a celebration, as in people...- Uncle Tasty looked at the
Five bottles of vodka on the floor of the refrigerator.

– Tola, they’ll sit down for the selfie! I was scared, but I said gambling.
An intelligent father.

and Nihua! Uncompromisingly said Daddy (Papa shrugged and looked at him).
They will not land! Not everyone is transferred.

I have never done that! My father had doubts, but
He felt that he had no interest in trying to gather.
The self-propelled apparatus...

While Uncle and Daddy, with a Chinese adviser, witched over the apparatus, Mom collected recipes - "the best, cleanest, like a baby's tear"... There were a lot of recipes. Daddy was right - not all were transplanted - neighbors, mom's colleagues at work, acquaintances of acquaintances - knew how and from what to drive the car. It turned out to be of everything – almost of taburets, as one famous hero claimed. In the evenings, the parents whispered - that, say, they went crazy, they have already gone down - shamefully like - the racers! But there came a day, and with him and Dyatollah, from the very morning with suspiciously shining eyes, the smell of chopsticks, a cap in the middle, and a Chinese whiteboard, for the company.

“Bobrichin’s self-propellation is strong, but muddy,” said Uncle Toll in a no-tone tone.
No one would object to him, but no one would object to him.

- Ugu-Ugu, - whispered Vitka-Chinese and stretched with a strong "Prima".

- Verka policeman - good, but she, the fox, does not give a recipe - from wheat,
See, chase, and by fifth – sell! It was very sick, but
It was still cheaper than vodka... – Uncle smashed his cap over his head,
The blue smoke from cigarettes. On the head of an uncle under a cap
It turned out to be a pegasus, squeezed, like an untouched bed. Grey and
and dust. He turned to me and smiled – well, that’s a newlyweds?
A man where?

“In Moscow,” I burst and turned away.

– In Maaskevyeye... The scientist is in pain. Studying again?

- Well, what did you do to the girl, Tola - give me how much sugar you need for it.
This is the brochure...—Papa held a large-lettered sheet of
Notebooks in a cell.

One day the self-propelled machine was ready. Brach was decided to do according to the "old recipe" that Dyatoll, allegedly risking his life,
“Kral” at Tomka’s house. From the grass. Yes is. Yes is. Yes is. From the grass.

“The process has gone,” said Mikhail Gorbachev. But on a different matter.
The trial went! He joyfully stumbled into the palms of the Uncle and his eyes.
They burned at the first drops of humidity dropped from
Condensator in the pot.

Go to process! The Chinese man smelled and smiled with gold.
The teeth.

The first damn was not a damn. The car succeeded. So that Dad,
Uncle, Vitku-Chinese, who came to the smell of my mother's brother Grishko, and the neighbor on the right - new on our street, recently bought the burned straw of the house of the grandmother of Manny, the economic Fedor, after the first tasting decided not to spread from our kitchen to the houses. They let sleep where they slept with a strong, hot sleep, not paying attention to the inhibitions of their wives and mother's unconscious cries:

and Senya! O my God! See also!

I did not know about all these drinks – in every sense of the word – because we, the newlyweds, lived separately – rented an apartment, and I, the next morning, approaching the house of my parents, saw a strange picture...

On the outskirts of the streets... I watched the birds! Crowds, pigeons and snakes. Up with sweaters. There were many birds. A lot of! Man of 100.
Or even a hundred fifty. The birds were rolling up with their legs folded up, their sticks on their sides... It was very scary. very very. is terrible. On trembling legs, I climbed to the pit, ran into the courtyard and cried. At my scream, my mom jumped out, I whispered and pointed my finger to the street... Mom jumped out for the straw, I heard the straw at the neighbor’s house.
Vítkyh-Chinese, the gasoline was stopped working at Fedor, the people gathered near our house and a few minutes later the whistle broke out... They laughed all over the street, with chopsticks, with clapping on the sides, with coughing.
As it turned out, the remains of the same, after a night in my mother's kitchen, in the morning was poured out on bottles. Neither the uncle nor the uncle.
Even the Chinese were not allowed. He was sent under a column to wash a self-propelled machine. The remnants of the grain that had passed over, on the advice again, rightly, Daddy, it was decided to throw it straight on the road. There was no asphalt on the street. There were one or two cars a year on the road. Well, well, not “a year,” but rarely. Peach is a natural product, as Dyatoll confirmed, and they... nothing will happen to this road! All the surrounding birds stumbled over the peas and got into alcoholic intoxication - again, in the literal sense - popAdali.
A few hours passed and the birds began to sober and tried to take off.
The crabs ran away, winding through the trunk, risking to knock their clove into the ground and turn their blue-black beams. The spiders flew at eight, and the pigeons went, stumbling at the pit, to their happiness, which was next to their party table. The pigeon had a swallow. The pigeons leaned to the pit to drink, and some of them, not holding on their feet, took a bath at the same time. You need to drink less. You need to drink less!" - jumped on one leg, trying to throw down the remnants of irritation, a whirlwind. More self-employed parents never chased. The device was presented to the Uncle, who in gratitude every time after the next race attracted the "host" in the form of a muddy bottle, sealed with a cluttered traffic. No one throws the drunk grain on the road anymore.