Blj. Do you think everyone here is a total immoral cynic?? No. Do you think you’re the only one who understands how fucked up the world is?? No. Or maybe you want to measure the feeling of shit in your life? Well, okay. My grandfather had a stroke a year ago and now he has partially lost his memory, being almost bedridden. Just a day ago I found out that my grandmother was taken away in an ambulance due to a stroke. My father is a well-breathing 50-year-old smoker who has already had a heart attack and been hospitalized five times. But you know what? I don’t want to think about it. If I think about it, work myself up, tell myself: “What if tomorrow the phone rings and I find out. ", then I’ll just go crazy and hang myself on some bitch.
We laugh it off, hide behind different masks and faces so that we don’t get hurt. And if every day you think: “And now, I’m one more day closer to the moment to die,” then with such motivation you will not go far.
Guys, don’t drink. No, seriously. Maybe you’ll https://cashpot-casino.uk/login/ like it.
I’ll tell you even more, you might like it so much that after two liters (gobbled up alone, which is already a diagnosis) of not the last beer in the world, you’ll run to catch up. You’ll bet for ten minutes with a saleswoman whose watch is fast. Send her to hell, go somewhere else. And then there’s the check. You hear a conversation about how, 20 minutes away, supposedly someone is selling even after 10. Damn it. Damn it. You go on and on. And the alcohol wears off, and you drink faster and faster. You’re sweating. In the end, you arrive at the place, and, essna, the conversations were all lies. You’re going home from grief. Along the way you see a very good, cheap, tasty and high-quality preparation, and generally a favorite sushi bar. You think WOW, THERE IS BEER THERE TOO, WOOH. Come in. You order a liter, having first asked, “But it’s not allowed in bottles or for takeaway.”?». You get a negative answer, and so understandingly, “Actually, there around the corner they sell it all night, yeah.”. But we didn’t come here for beer, we are “waiting for friends,” and we really want to eat as many as 8 cucumber rolls for 60 rubles. As a result, after the first glass and devoured sushi, a brilliant plan matures in my head. Let’s go to the toilet and spend five minutes there. We put the flip-flops we wear in our bag. We take 300 rubles out of our pocket. We leave the toilet, in the best traditions of cinema, we throw money (which, by the way, covered expenses, and the tip remained) on the table, take a glass and leave with a poker face. Barefoot. To make it easier to run. The first 5 seconds everything was ok. But as soon as I heard “Where did you go with the glass?”?", I went as fast as I could. On the asphalt. At night. Drunk.
You know, from the restaurant to my house it’s about 400 meters. But it seems that I have established a new world. He ran so that it’s not like there’s beer in a glass – you can’t hold the glass in your hand. Behind you there are frantic screams of “STOP YOU STUPID BITCH”, and a woman is screaming, and you understand that if you get caught, she’ll kill you better than two guys. As a result, at some point I realize that I washed my face with all the beer in the glass, let the glass be, and I throw it at her feet. Well, I wasn’t looking exactly where, but the glass breaks, and then she screams in pain. After running another 100 meters, I fall. Hands are bleeding, clothes are dirty, sides are torn off, knees too. But I get up and keep running. After 50 meters again. I barely make it to the apartment, miraculously not taking my keys out of my pocket. I run home, crawl into the shower, bleeding and leaving red marks from my feet. I lie there for about 20 minutes. I vomit. After these 20 minutes the heart finally calms down. I almost fall asleep. I wake up vomiting again. It seems like everything stops bleeding, limping on both terribly skinned legs, I crawl to the bed, fall asleep in the sheet.
Don’t drink, people. Otherwise, you will wake up from a wild pain in your legs, with heat all over your body, because one of your wounds has become infected, with the understanding that you ran away from the restaurant, PAYING for the food, BUT WITHOUT DRINKING A SECOND GLASS OF BEER, that now you are barred from going to this favorite restaurant, and that in 30 minutes you have to go to work.
No need. Don’t be idiots.
Nope. Maybe someone has a butthurt, because the rating is still 1.5 fell… Well okay. I just really don’t know what I did
