Геннадий Викторович Жуков - Геша - текст песни, слова, перевод, видео

Gesha sniffed doubtfully sock. The sock was still tiny: the second day is on time. Well, maybe the third. Gesha fumbled in a box at the door. So ... Dichlophos, Valocordin, glue "moment", something else with the inscription is not at all in Russian. And here is a deodorant after shaving or for shaving. Scary, of course. If for shaving - socks will become fat and slippery. Yes ... Gesha aimed and pressed the pimpochka with the keys to the house. The deodorant buried. Nothing in the sense of foam crawled out of the hole. Gesha abundantly poured a sock with a thin stream and hung on the door handle. The smell of a shaved man. Then he took the second toe, sniffed and processed from the bottle. The smell of two freshly bombed men. So, that's all.

Then he found his panties under the pillow, went into the shower, soaped his underpants and with them - his head, armpits, body and legs. He quickly flashed, wiping himself with a four -day T -shirt, and pulled on his ass dry. Then he squeezed out a toothpaste in his mouth from the tube, pushed his index finger and went to the kitchen, on the way, putting a worthy dose of the same “after shaving” on the road. Since the bottle was non -Russian, the platoon of shaved foreign legionnaires smelled.

There was not just a mess in the kitchen, but a super -bank. That is, a mess before the creation of the world. That is, the pristine emptiness, with the exception of an ashtray with cigarette butts, lighters and dirty (wash before use) a small pan. Gesha turned on the gas, rinseed the saucepan, not really trying (all the same, food, albeit yesterday), and began to fill the tube with cigarette butts from an ashtray. He straightened the most greasy bull, cooked and opened the refrigerator with a professor. So ... So, about a saucepan. He stole them with friends, meticulously trying on the pockets of the backpack. The pan was supposed to get into the middle pocket. Preferably with a lid, preferably aluminum to hang over a bonfire on a wire. Friends, burdened with dishes, did not worry, because they did not notice the lack of small containers. The most beloved saucepan was in one reserve. He also combined her somewhere. Of the fairly small ones, in doll canapons, with two streams, with two holes, (he himself made them with a carnation), with a lid. The lid of the roof was adjusted with a file. And then some woman lost the lid, broke off the pen and fell out of love. So.

Fridge. On someone else's gaze, he was empty. As his friend said, then the mouse hanged herself. But since someone else's gaze did not spend the night, there was a lot of products on the upper shelf. Pauls of the Hercules flakes, half a band ... a bottle ... a small bottle of soy sauce, four bags of tea and a handful of sugar. For beauty in the freezer there was eternal winter, and in the door - four empty bottles of vodka, the contents of which Gesha immediately pumped it into his mouth. Vodka did not get into the body, but it had fun in the mouth. He gloriously had breakfast spicy oatmeal with salty soy, tart tea with sweet sugar and a tube with bitter tobacco. Then he sat happily, felt that the underpants had already dried up ... Well, they had almost dried up, then, already in the room, he took out snow-white pants from under the mattress, ironed his weight to the perfect condition of the arrow, removed the white T-shirt from the wall, He put on a white shirt, combed already dried hair and a beard, turned on the mobile phone on the wave of “silver rain”, went out into the yard, wiped his shoes on the bench, put on his socks, then his shoes and went out the door with a guitar, which he always thought: “Why why why There are no inflatable guitars? " About whom he thought with a saucepan (somehow Diogenes threw a bowl, then boiled boiling in his palms), which he thought with a deodorant (which came in handy again when his gesha sprayed in his mouth), different thoughts, among which there was a one One is smart that, they say, the house is the place through which the hunter passes, going to hunt.

Record: 07/07/2008, Simferopol, Shaykin's courtyard.