bezdna.su — the best quotes and jokes from the abyss!
When I was young, I loved drinking. That’s why my wife left me. In short, I lived with my deaf old mother in a three-bedroom apartment. My name is Victor. Although it is uncomfortable to write such an unpleasant event, but in thirty years it can happen to anyone.
One day after work, I had a lot of fun with my friends. I came home on autopilot. My mother was watching TV in the living room. Sound for the whole corner. I quietly crashed into my room, raised the couch seat to get the bedding... But then the last forces left me – I fell with a bullet into the couch’s bottom, and the seat over me fell. I was medium-sized, shorter, fit perfectly in the couch box and fell asleep.
Mom, watching the movie on the telecast, looked into my room. and none. I thought she had stumbled somewhere. She closed the entrance door to the castle and lay on the bed in the bedroom. There was a dead silence in the apartment.
At two o’clock in the night, I woke up with a thirst. The head was torn, the whole body was hurt, the leg was cramped and wanted to go to the toilet. I opened my eyes, it was dark. “Where am I? I asked myself. I need to get rid of it or I will die!”
I laid my hands on a hard bed and tried to sit down. The Bach! He hit the forehead of the faner. “What fucking thing?“!”
I examined the surrounding space with tremendous palms. On top of the cover, on the sides, the boards... “Lord! I am in the grave! My eyes came out of the orbit of horror. Somewhere he ate, cut off, and I was mistakenly buried alive!
No is! Let me go!! I am alive!! – I stumbled in panic and started to knock my limbs into the top of the box... However, a tired mother didn’t hear anything. Her restless sleep could only be disrupted by a weapon salute made right in the bedroom.
I became weak and cried bitterly in my grave. What a terrible end! I counted it. He was buried alive for thirty years.
However, when I crushed, I still took myself in my hands. Maybe it’s not all lost yet? There was a weak hope in me. Sasuke himself buried the cemetery. The deck was slightly nailed and all... And the earth, maybe loose – buried by drunken slugs and, like, hardly trumpeted... After all, if I don’t come out myself – both! Cranes to fuck!“!”
I gathered the last forces in a bunch, strained, stepped my feet and hands into the "cover" and pressed in a stangistic way! The heavy seat of the couch rose up... I rushed into a light crack, like a bottle of champagne!
Painfully shaking my back, I fell out of a wooden confinement on the parquet floor.
The A-A! A wild, heartbreaking scream broke out of my traumatized vodka chest.
Save it! Save me!! I am not dead! I am alive!! to
Their brains were feverishly scanning the surrounding muddy SOMETHING. There was no dirty ground nearby. I thought it was Morocco...
The whistle of a wounded bear, comparable in decibels to an atomic explosion, awakened not only the mother, but also the neighbors.
The wretched mother rushed to the call, turning on the light.
Ritchie, what about you?! to
She was in my sight in the fog. But I stopped riding on the floor, stumbled on the parent with a glass mad look... Nausea flew from anywhere, it was disgusting. I, driving away all this ugliness with my hands, thought that I had met my mother in the sunny paradise!
Are you dead too? I asked and cried again.
Well, the mother, of course, rushed to her child, began to lick me on the head, tightly pressed to herself, as in childhood, and often cried, comforting:
No one is dead, my son. We are all alive! You had a bad dream. Look, this is your room. Do you know?
Slowly my self-control returned to me. I climbed to the prison sofa, touched it and finally "looked out" - I realized in which "grave" I spent the night.
Well, I drank, of course, 200 grams with lemon. I swear to him that many years have passed since then. I don’t drink after that nightmare. Sometimes I drink beer with cakes. The happy wife returned, gave birth to an heir. Life is fine...
(c) http://my-first-time.livejournal.com/177088.html
One day after work, I had a lot of fun with my friends. I came home on autopilot. My mother was watching TV in the living room. Sound for the whole corner. I quietly crashed into my room, raised the couch seat to get the bedding... But then the last forces left me – I fell with a bullet into the couch’s bottom, and the seat over me fell. I was medium-sized, shorter, fit perfectly in the couch box and fell asleep.
Mom, watching the movie on the telecast, looked into my room. and none. I thought she had stumbled somewhere. She closed the entrance door to the castle and lay on the bed in the bedroom. There was a dead silence in the apartment.
At two o’clock in the night, I woke up with a thirst. The head was torn, the whole body was hurt, the leg was cramped and wanted to go to the toilet. I opened my eyes, it was dark. “Where am I? I asked myself. I need to get rid of it or I will die!”
I laid my hands on a hard bed and tried to sit down. The Bach! He hit the forehead of the faner. “What fucking thing?“!”
I examined the surrounding space with tremendous palms. On top of the cover, on the sides, the boards... “Lord! I am in the grave! My eyes came out of the orbit of horror. Somewhere he ate, cut off, and I was mistakenly buried alive!
No is! Let me go!! I am alive!! – I stumbled in panic and started to knock my limbs into the top of the box... However, a tired mother didn’t hear anything. Her restless sleep could only be disrupted by a weapon salute made right in the bedroom.
I became weak and cried bitterly in my grave. What a terrible end! I counted it. He was buried alive for thirty years.
However, when I crushed, I still took myself in my hands. Maybe it’s not all lost yet? There was a weak hope in me. Sasuke himself buried the cemetery. The deck was slightly nailed and all... And the earth, maybe loose – buried by drunken slugs and, like, hardly trumpeted... After all, if I don’t come out myself – both! Cranes to fuck!“!”
I gathered the last forces in a bunch, strained, stepped my feet and hands into the "cover" and pressed in a stangistic way! The heavy seat of the couch rose up... I rushed into a light crack, like a bottle of champagne!
Painfully shaking my back, I fell out of a wooden confinement on the parquet floor.
The A-A! A wild, heartbreaking scream broke out of my traumatized vodka chest.
Save it! Save me!! I am not dead! I am alive!! to
Their brains were feverishly scanning the surrounding muddy SOMETHING. There was no dirty ground nearby. I thought it was Morocco...
The whistle of a wounded bear, comparable in decibels to an atomic explosion, awakened not only the mother, but also the neighbors.
The wretched mother rushed to the call, turning on the light.
Ritchie, what about you?! to
She was in my sight in the fog. But I stopped riding on the floor, stumbled on the parent with a glass mad look... Nausea flew from anywhere, it was disgusting. I, driving away all this ugliness with my hands, thought that I had met my mother in the sunny paradise!
Are you dead too? I asked and cried again.
Well, the mother, of course, rushed to her child, began to lick me on the head, tightly pressed to herself, as in childhood, and often cried, comforting:
No one is dead, my son. We are all alive! You had a bad dream. Look, this is your room. Do you know?
Slowly my self-control returned to me. I climbed to the prison sofa, touched it and finally "looked out" - I realized in which "grave" I spent the night.
Well, I drank, of course, 200 grams with lemon. I swear to him that many years have passed since then. I don’t drink after that nightmare. Sometimes I drink beer with cakes. The happy wife returned, gave birth to an heir. Life is fine...
(c) http://my-first-time.livejournal.com/177088.html