(c) Steelzer/Triumph
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Ну неужели вы еще в состоянии сидеть за компом и читать уже
второй PSY? Неужели вы еще не свихнулись от ужаса, коим
напичкана наша газета? Стучат зубы, подрагивают руки, взгляд
напряженно направлен в эти строки - так и есть, налицо первый
признак Психомании! Мне остается лишь надеяться, что вы
последовали моему совету, и читаете этот выпуск темной мрачной
ночью... Или вы беспокоетесь о своей психике - ну тогда весь
смак страха пропадает, как смывается кровь с рук... Сегодня я
задам вам трудныйquestion and you will have to think carefully,
before answering honestly...
Have you ever wondered where your soul wanders?
consciousness when you fall asleep? Do you share reality and
fantasies? Are you sure that when you wake up, you will remain the same?
the same personality that they fell asleep? Will you notice the difference between
yesterday and this moment? Do you know yourself that much
okay, so you can answer my question with complete confidence?
Well, okay, think carefully, but for now the beginning of the story about
one day in the life of one cormorant, from my rich collection,
about the very shitty life of this very cormorant...
God forbid you wake up one day in his everyday life...
One stinking day in the life of one cormorant.
part 1 of 3.
A beautiful blonde hugged me tenderly and whispered, “Honey, I
I love you..." she closed her lips with mine. Her subtle aroma
spirits penetrated deeper and deeper into my consciousness. It seemed to me
that I can't live without her. All my old life seemed forgotten
a dream compared to these minutes. She showered me with hot
kisses, I responded with all my feelings. Here she is, mine
the only one, I found her, - I told myself, repeating again and again
again these cherished words to myself...
“You and I are forever - our feelings are eternal... - I knew for sure thatthat's what she thinks...
I felt like my heart just wanted to jump out to her
in your hands. I was suffocating with my feelings, couldn't get enough of her
love and tenderness for all those years while I was looking for her... Here she is -
Before me is the embodiment of beauty and elegance...
The wild ringing of the alarm clock... I barely opened one eye,
I couldn’t see anything and tried to open the second one... Crumpled
sheets, torn wallpaper, gray ceiling, curtains black with dust,
gray parquet floor with the dried remains of someone's dinner, empty
beer bottle on a three-legged dilapidated table...
It was just a dream... Eeh... What a pity...
Consciousness again tried to plunge into the oblivion of sleep, but
the alarm clock screamed heart-rendingly, bursting into piggy squeals in every possible way and
overflow... I couldn’t stand it, and with the crunch of numb limbs
threw the tattered pillow towards the source of these heart-rending screams.
A one and a half kilogram Soviet alarm clock, taken off the shelf,
Taking with him a couple of boxes of discs, he crashed to the floor.
There was the death bell of a dying man and a wild swearing from below. Yes
Usually my neighbors wish me good morning...
With every second, the feeling of stinking reality penetrated everything
further into my fevered brain. My soul feels bad, as if someone is there
shit. For some reason, I realized with sadness that I was in the mood
spoiled for the whole day... It’s okay, I’ll take it out on someone...
Slowly butthe damaged vision was surely returning, along with it
The sense of smell also made itself felt - a wave of the stench of sweaty
socks, which for some reason were lying under the pillow, were rotting
unbrushed teeth, fumes, sweaty armpits, unwashed feet and more
something that is even hard to imagine...
After lying there for another minute, I finally decided to tear off my lazy
ass off the bed. When I tried to get up, my head responded wildly.
pain, as if a ball with needles was rolling inside the nerves.
He lazily sat down, struggling to overcome the demands of his stomach...
One more fucking day, one fucking idiot lived
more, nothing more, out of the blue I suddenly thought.
Looking longingly at the empty bottle, I began to remember
last night... Nothing worked out. Memory seemed to refuse
work, demanding beer...
Having decided to wash my face first, I stomped around the room past the rubble
dirty laundry, mountains of garbage and other crap scattered on
floor, having stepped on something sharp with my fingers a couple of times, to the treasured
the abode of my existence, to the oasis of my life, to my home
ruleza, to the only joy that smooths out my shitty
existence, to the dearly beloved, to the only one in his
original buggyness, and uniqueness of the author's assembly, to
a friend in life - in general, to my spec. Turning on the power with iron
toggle switch, and removing the protective casing from the monitor, with a hugeWith pleasure I took out a disk with passwords from a copper-bound box,
remembering my sister’s entire pedigree, I pulled it out of the drive
the day before yesterday's newspaper and inserted the long-awaited flop. Flopar
growled, my stomach responded in kind. Broken screen painted in
pale yellow vomit color ancient like mammoth shit
Chinese black and white monitor, pretended to turn black.
About three minutes later, blurred letters appeared on it. After waiting
in another minute, I finally recognized the approximate outlines of the security...
Poking at random on the iron keys of the mud-stained keyboard
With smoky fingers I finally guessed my password, and the system
went out, that is, security gave the go-ahead. In a couple of minutes
a painfully familiar frame of the best weaver demo appeared. Somehow
Having seen the file names on the screen, I downloaded the treasured... From
torn speakers, the remains of a broken tape recorder poured
sweet sounds of Spekov's favorite electronic music. Played alone
from Iron's new music. This weaver is a good thing, even the Mouzons
plays... Having used the remnants of my brain, I remembered the name -
Distraction, I remember I collected this muse from good old friends -
from Ice and Blade. Oh, how I wanted to destroy something...
A wave of nostalgia suddenly came over me...
I had to go wash up. Taking with you for
safety meter-long fly swatter and waving it undertime to the music
I carefully began to make my way along the dark corridor, towards
bathroom...
I'll have to clean my room sometime,
The last time I cleaned the roofing felt was the birthday before last,
roofing felts for the New Year... but imagining the amount of rubble of all kinds
the kind of crap that would have to be shoveled out I drove away with horror
provocative thoughts.
Carefully approaching the push, he quietly opened the door.
palm stained with something on the door, from there a frantic sound was immediately heard
buzzing and began to fly out in flocks of healthy ones, the size of a
fist, flies. After waiting until a sufficient number of them fly out,
I started using a fly swatter, occasionally hitting the wall and knocking down pieces
wallpaper One of the voracious flies landed on my shoulder, causing my weight
sharply increased by one and a half times, and clattering ten-centimeter
I wanted to grab the lobe of my precious one with my jaws
unwashed ear... Using some trickery, I hit her in the eye with my elbow, which is why
it fell on my leg with a whistle... The bone crunched and there was pain
the soaked nerves were transmitted to the head. I had to get even more angry
the same, with tears in my eyes, giving in to the pace. When there are flies left
just nothing - a few flocks, I quickly ran into the push,
tightly closing the door behind him with someone's half-meter lock. Sveta
as always it was not. Well, let's shit ourselves by touch.
Searching for the toilet with my hand, I came across something soft,pleasant to
touch... with disgust and with difficulty pulling my hand out of the ass, I
I settled down roughly and began to do all my chores, simultaneously completing my own and
already shitty pants and shitting on the floor... What can you do with
I've always been bad at marksmanship... Coming out of the push, sighing
I cleared my throat with more or less fresh air and
continued on his way to the bathroom. The flies flew off somewhere. Damn, that's it
eat - from the direction of the kitchen there was the sound of slurping and crunching of crushed
supplies. When I was about to disperse them from there, I finally decided
First, go to the bathroom. Having opened the door with the correct key, I
found himself in a bright room measuring 1X1 meter, half of which
occupied by a bathtub, leaky in several places, made of durable
Soviet plastic. Having peeled off the interfering dirt from the tap and
rust, carefully opened it. Flowed into the remains of the sink
a foul-smelling viscous liquid of a light green color, somewhat reminiscent of
my diarrhea the day before yesterday... My stomach couldn’t stand even the stream
defecated on a broken tile... Phew, I finally feel better.
Having wiped his face on someone’s underpants or a towel, and waited
until the tap water acquires its healthy chlorinated
color, I finally got the chance to have a good one
wash... which I didn’t use successfully. Getting out from under
bathtub some kind of brush, covered in cobwebs, I removed with disgust
she's deadcockroach, which turned out to be quite alive - having grabbed
half of my month-long uncut nail he ran into a tricky place
a tangle of cobwebs, dirt and my dirty socks visible
from under the bathroom. I examined the brush again and found nothing on it.
suspicious, I carefully squeezed out a hefty half of
a tube of some kind of paste and began to brush his teeth with effort.
After sweating for a while, I rinsed my mouth with something harmful to all living things.
moisture from the tap. Great, the stench of fumes and unbrushed teeth
disappeared, but a new one appeared - my breath stank of shoe polish. C
With difficulty admitting my mistake, I shaved with a dull blade and sprayed
under the arms with either deodorant from the 60s or fresh
dichlorvos and decided that that was enough for today and trudged to the kitchen.
It was time to have breakfast and do business. From my room
Speck's music was heard and only it smoothed out the opposite
mood from another stinking day...
Having made our way through mountains of three-liter cans of sour
the remains of who knows what, piled up in the dark corridor, and
brushing off the stuck cobwebs from my shoulders, I almost broke my legs on
Scattered, dried up slippers, I went into the kitchen...
My suspicions about the flies did not come true - they were all lying on
on a stained floor with torn wings and broken necks...
The fat sheep, apparently the neighbor's, was biting into them with a crunch.
stinking carcasses,savoring every bone. Seeing me she
hissed with ultrasound and wanted to sharpen her claws on mine
legs - I couldn’t stand it and hit her with my knee on the ridge.
Having flown about three meters, the cat splashed into the wall and left along the way
copious stinking excrement running away in an unknown direction,
raping my hearing with a hoarse meow. The stomach echoed the cat, as if
Some terrible creature settled there. Deciding that enough is enough
to pervert with the remnants of my health, I began to prepare myself a generous
breakfast. Having bitten off a couple of slices of crackers from a dried bun, I washed it down
water from a kettle, looking like a brown mixture of fermented kvass,
sour milk and brine. Here's a strange thing that happens -
I haven’t poured water into the kettle for a long time, but it appears there every
morning. Most likely the tricks of my crazy old woman, nicknamed
Horror. Somehow I picked out the dried stuff from the wall of the rusty refrigerator.
obviously not a chicken egg, I devoured that too.
Now is the time to smoke. Tucking in the thick one
I started smoking mahorishu made from cardboard with Chinese tea, stuffing my
lungs with choking smoke. I wanted to spit out the broken window -
well, you know, my accuracy is bad - it’s so tasty
spread across the window, forming with others a very picturesque
picture.
Looks like I've been stuck at home. The time was approaching noon and I,
throwing a jacket torn in indecent places over his bare shoulders, and
dressedsocks standing like a stake in the corner on his bare leg, ran towards
work...
to be continued..
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