Author of quotes: Igor Irtenev

I drank vodka with tomato juice
In the happy youth of the year
And often thought about the high,
Low - only sometimes.
While the neighbor Zinaida
Secretly showed me
Its nondescript libido
One evening in the window.

I used to be a lively lad,
Enough girls underwear,
But colds once the coccyx
In the intimacy of the watch.
Immobility and possessed
Instead of the old fire,
Ah, Virgo, Virgo, where you are, where you
Why hast forsaken me?
The entire horizon to the lead clouds,
Where the table was viands, is a pot,
Sped frictions Roy flying
Fun dry humping cock,
Otsukaresama forever
Here-here will start to die,
Post, citizens, cripple,
Give a woman in bed.

If only if I was younger,
Yes, complex is good,
I would on the bike would also
swept naked.
I'm just numb, not knowing
nor care, nor labor,
the citizens causing
a sense of shame easy.
Pressing on the pedals
I would saddle up,
all I've seen
so everyone would know.
Welcome women
claiming gender male
I would have gone in goal
along Tverskaya street.
If my highest class
And unheard of glory
On the road of the government
I would be happy was all.
And paying tribute to the moment
Once at the Kremlin,
Waved to the President,
Without removing your hands from the steering wheel.



Explanation of the quote:

In St. Petersburg, arrested for 15 days
the cyclist, who may
the holidays have rolled around naked in the Palace
the square around the Alexander column.

If I were a little younger
I'd be a soul dear
three men in the face
gave at least a foot.
Yes, at least five to
he gave the mug to the hand.
So tell me thanks
what am I so old.

When the area of the head
hits you bullet,
at first you think that you
as if asleep.
But after a few minutes,
when cool the body
to think that there
the more serious the case.

Yesterday on the radio I heard
What happened seems to be a decree
Or maybe even not come out,
But to discuss how times
Those who does not love their homeland
And the gift of the bread eating folk,
The soon cut off his head,
To know the place in advance,
Will bury them raw
the grave of bleach will pour.
... And for those who loves, the second,
Properly sew.

I cut in,
there goes pop,
heard the screams of the parrots,
the monkey voices.
And suffer not flour
think: "Holy shit,
how can these bitches
these sounds make?"

Man I gated
masking his essence,
there are discreet and quiet
at restaurants the dishes are not beat.
Working effectively in a public field
industrial on private fields,
I was born in any team
on the fourth and fifth roles.
Sexy, reviews on
(there is an amendment on long experience),
but, mind you, heterosexual,
today almost shocking.

Three of Peter and two of Ivan,
two Ivans, three of Peter
woke up early in the morning
and shooting in the morning.
And envied them drunk
The two Ivans, three Peter,
Three Peter and the two Ivans
Black envy Abram.

Only the spirit moved,
As pinned Natalie
Bringing a friend Shura,
Enchanting fool.
And then descended Stas,
It was finally atas!
And then out of nowhere,
For some unknown reason
Suddenly there was this Folk,
(Luda - full mu-mu).
And then came mark
And the face People - shvark!
And when he came Ilya,
It broke down and I.
All!

First we came up with the Basil
Even though it is not requested.
And then came Oleg -
Unpleasant people.
And then came the Mayor,
It is not clear for what.
And then Valentin,
Just a rare moron.
And then Vadim
(Nineteen times convicted).
And then Andrew,
At least he died quickly!
We also visited Fima,
Once he walked past.
And behind him burst Paul
Three hours out of everyone hovering.




First we came up with the Basil
Even though it is not requested.
And then came Oleg -
Unpleasant people.
And then came the Mayor,
It is not clear for what.
And then Valentin,
Just a rare moron.
And then Vadim
(Nineteen times convicted).
And then Andrew,
At least he died quickly!
We also visited Fima,
Once he walked past.
And behind him burst Paul
Three hours out of everyone hovering.

The yellow leaves slowly falling
In our God-forsaken garden
Nothing pleases me no longer,
Even the circus on Okhotny Ryad.
A feeling of General fatigue,
Yes, and look at artists stale:
Not anyone can do until old age
To go wheel to the arena.
But I'm afraid I don't have to leave us.
Contrary to the persuasion of doctors,
Again eager to flowers and applause
Unbreakable Union of circus performers.

Look with attention around
Not that cold, but still,
The pen falls from the hands,
The my skin crawls.
The people biting at the bit,
No fear knows no measure,
Such happening,
Such personal career.
Russian literature to serve
Vocation, of course, is Holy,
But I want to put dibs
Sometimes into something cool.

Art is the heritage of the masses
And achievement of nature.
It shines like a diamond
When his brush with baking soda.
It is not vanity
And at the same time
Red tape.
His beautiful features
Are open for all comers.