When I quit drinking and Smoking, his head occasionally there are a stupid idea that you must implement. One of these thoughts this morning called for my stupid head, switching channels, I saw the man dimmed pancakes or pancakes made of zucchini with sour cream. I’m ashamed to say I know what this dish is made with zucchini, crushed in a blender, flour and yogurt. I ran to the kitchen to check that I have from it. It turned out that from all this I have only payback. Well, pancakes, bitch want, the anticipation of hot pancakes with sour cream, eclipsed mind so that poldvenadtsatogo night I decided to go to the store. Well, what? Weather whispers, drunks drinking, all grandly and nobly, going to the only store which had worked 24 hours, I found the inscription that the shop supposedly closed, come tomorrow morning.

I said that with the advent of prohibition, at night, many shops just stopped working after 23. And according to my personal observations this does not affect the libations of our population. If before, the companies that are going under the Windows, took a little bit, and then just ran until, until we started arguing who goes and fights in the style of a drunken crane, and it was over 3 mornings, now they take for future use, so for the future, that all does not stop until 5 am. Then begins jablechna, fight, and then have to go to work to get up. The government does not understand our people. He nimfomanki, it is always small and if he can’t add, he’ll take so much, not just to get drunk, and die immediately. And again, if you cut those who drink, why cut all the others who, for example need flour and yogurt in 12 nights?
Looking at the ad, I didn’t notice the friend, peacefully puffing on the stairs, he sensed a human presence and opened his eyes:

– Uh-uh, man…- he hiccupped
– Are you okay? – I asked.
– Fuck…- he explained his condition – Not working
– Yes, closed opens tomorrow morning.
– Wait – he took the pose of a cat curled up and puffed.
I went down and began to ponder where you can shop 24 hours. In theory, worked Azbuka Vkusa, but it was in the way, and to reach it it was possible only by taxi, so I decided to go for yogurt and flour in a taxi, and even in the Alphabet of Taste, it’s cool even for Abramovich, about me and can not speak. Our people in the ABC taste for yogurt don’t go, especially not to go there by taxi. So I decided to go to one of the nearest subway, in the hope that there is a Magnolia.
On a night out different types of maniacs, thugs or just idiots to like me, all the normal puffs back to their wives and dream about top models. Well, fuck me a model, and even top? I need pancakes. I reasoned that the ideal meal will be pancakes, so, if I come out, I will look for it. Meet me were a peasant, is pretty decent, not swayed when we passed one another, I asked:
– Excuse me, are you from subway?
He nodded.
– And not seen, where the store is?
– I don’t know, not seen – he muttered – I are going to China, I don’t have time to look at the sides.
– A-a-Ah, sorry – I staggered back, realizing that the man is crazy. Although, if I ask a passerby about how I went out at night, I like to pack next to this friend that in China the fuck you going twelve-thirty at night.
When he reached the subway, I found that the store is closed, closed everything but flowers. Although the people near the metro was full, they created swirls of bottles, something loud found out and laughed. In General, there is a recommendation for mates who like to drink on the street. About 27-28 of each month, and to the end of better on the street rashevite. The police, like all of us, doing everything at the last moment. And at the end of the month in their reporting of solved crimes and caught the offenders. So urgently they are worn around town and cling all the way down to those that are just standing with an open beer. No, there is a fine minimum, not hemorrhoids they create. At your own risk I decided to approach this company.
– Good night.
– Great!
– Do not tell me where to find a nearby 24 hour shop?
Why? Plunk? Do not sell, want, to treat? – showed a man in an opened bottle of vodka.
– No, thank you. I don’t drink.
– COP or something? – he glanced at me.
– No, it’s just the store looking for flour and buttermilk for pancakes to buy. Pancakes want frankness in conversation, often the most powerful weapon. I thought they all crowd sobered up after my words.
– What is he a COP?! A sick he shook his temple, another man – Shorter than right here on this street go and rested in the house, there on the edge, is the basement here at the shop for 24 hours.
– Got it, thanks – I went in the direction indicated.
Hey? I am a man – And Smoking do you have?
I don’t smoke…
I told the patient ” he chuckled.
The store was a kind of a mixture of stall and mini market, the benefit I found kefir and sour cream, but the pancake flour was not. So I went to the checkout:
Girl, good night. Do you have pancake flour? I asked the sleepy clerk.
– It’s not there?
– May not have noticed.
– Oh – she sighed and her ass, went to the shelves.
– Doughnut is called, where the girl depicted is still, as beautiful as you – I tried to make a compliment.
She bent down, rummaged in the bottom shelf and pulled out a bag of flour:
– Here you go. And that, I think like is a miracle in a headdress? – she made a wry face.
Very embarrassed I am.
– Oh… – she went up to the counter.
Paying for the purchase, I went home. As they walked there while back, tired as a dog. But the craving for pancakes are not cool. So I immediately went to work, Jessie like a true woman, began to “help” that is underfoot, yapping and biting, I was distracted by it and simultaneously turned on the blender, and put his hand the wrong way. I so pizzaolo current pancakes from eyes fell down. But to surrender I’m not used to, so when he came to, and throwing the dog out of the kitchen, I continued. But to replace one, the other came and began to demand food, teasing me, before that I spilled on the granite a little sunflower oil, and yet threw out the dog, I forgot to wipe it. At some hundredth “meow-y-y-y-y” I decided to kick, but the wily animal dodged, I hit the supporting leg to the oil, and gently fucked in the coccyx. Came only Bulgakov, so I thought well there is no tram, I would repeat the fate of Berlioz. Breaking up all and almateria, I finally proceeded to cook pancakes.
After half an hour I finally got everything ready, sat down, inspected the sink with a mountain of dishes, rubbed the coccyx, aching wildly, smoothed his hair that stood on end after my discharge went through and realized that I fucking don’t want the fuckin ‘ pancakes!
We come up with a goal, bother struggling, sometimes risking everything, then you realize we don’t need this – this is the life.

Translated by Yandex Translate