When I was 17, I didn’t smoke yet, but I drank beer, which I tried to hide from my parents. But there was a rock concert here, he told the ancestors that we and the boys were going there just to listen to music, but the strazzzzz)))) We bought a box then, as I remember now, "Klinsky" and went to use it for the music of the fateful direction. And everything would be fine, but in a couple of days comes out a local newspaper, where on the first strip, under the headline "Pank in the city", a photo with us splashes greedy burning beers. The parents of course roasted, but in any case said that I would not drink much more)))



I even kept this newspaper for memory, it is still somewhere in the warehouse.