Zheka: About the exhibitionists reminded... in being my young sixteen-year-old girl, a whiteboat, I walk somehow on an empty street, eat ice cream. Suddenly I met my uncle. 15 meters from me, I see his face reviving, climbing the width to stretch behind his instrument. And I have such a good mood, sunny, I think: "Here is a shit, the whole idea of ice cream is a hint to me!" Yes, like a barrel on the whole street by a bass: "Just try, just try, I'll cut off all the stuff! " And my hands with ice cream threatening meat. What in the end? Uncle pinched through the bushes with a frightened look, and my ice cream did not withstand the involvement in the psychological attack, and fell to the ground. The pig was like that, but it did it. and :(