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My drunken weekend, as it should be in accordance with the law of the genre, began on Friday evening, when after a hard day at 9 o'clock my brother uttered the magic word "beer" - my eyes immediately caught fire, my nose combed and I escorted him to the store.
On Saturday was the birthday of one of my closest friends - I was returning home by taxi at 2 am drunken and pleased.
Night enthusiasm dispelled like smoke on Sunday morning, when my mother woke me up at half-past ten and I began to clean up with a pliant head. Probably, that's why I absolutely did not feel any excitement because there was to be reconciliation of parents who were divorced - much more worried about my headache, soshnyak and desire to sleep ..
And only when the doorbell rang in the blood, the adrenaline rushed tangibly.
In my opinion, everything went well. not perfect, of course, but ..
By the way, without smashing utensils (of course, for luck) was not done - minus the saucer from my mother's service.
Good night, kittens! Sweet dreams to you!
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