Stories about drunk women. Funny real drunken stories - jokes from drunks about beer, wine and other alcohol

Drunken village.

Story.

In the evening the father said to the children:
- Tomorrow I’m sending you to the village. Your grandmother lives there, and she needs help with haymaking. She is already old and cannot do without help. My mother and I don’t have a chance to go on vacation in the summer these days, so, my dears, pack your things and go. Explained clearly?
Hurray!” seventh-grader Olga immediately shouted. “I’ll pick mushrooms there.”
The son, on the contrary, did not express any delight. He just put the book aside and muttered:
- Dad? Is this another joke? I am busy. I'm getting ready for college. And then - what haymaking? Did grandma have a cow?
- She didn’t show up. But she has a goat. And this is also a ruminant animal. There is work for several days... You can take the textbooks with you. By the way, I still don’t understand what institute you are going to...
- Well, not in your engineering department. You work your whole life at your fucking factory, but you get pennies. We don't even have a beat-up car.
The father took off his glasses from his short-sighted eyes and looked in bewilderment at his son, who had thrown his feet up on the windowsill.
- So you don’t want to be an engineer...
- Yes, father, I don’t want to. I want to become a politician... I want to fool people. And live happily... But I don’t see your goat at point-blank range.
“Oh, yap!” exclaimed the mother in the kitchen, who was washing the dishes. “Our Olya gets straight A’s, and she wants to learn to be a cook after school.” And he set his sights on politics... You come down to earth. Last year he wanted to study to become a translator; before that he dreamed of a military school...
“Maybe I should become a writer!” said Andrey dreamily. “Better be a poet.” Prose and novels of all kinds are hard to write...
The father grabbed his son by the long hair, lifted him to his feet. The child was already taller than his father, but he had not yet offered resistance.
“That’s it, a writer!” the father said harshly. “Tomorrow you will go on a creative business trip to the village.” You will write a poem about a goat there... Got it? Come back and read it out loud to me. So that the rhymes are fresh.
- Okay, father! But there will be such a contract. I am saving a poor goat from hunger, and in return you will send me to stay with Uncle Arthur in Germany. He lives in Cologne. I want to see the cathedral there. Try some German beer. By the way, I just don’t understand. You and Uncle Arthur are two brothers. One is German according to documents, the other is Russian. Although the parents are the same. How did this happen?
“You’ll ask your grandmother about this in the village.” “She is to blame for everything,” said the mother. “Your grandmother was a tractor driver when she was young, raising virgin soil in Kazakhstan...
“Okay!” said the father. “I agree!” I’ll call Germany today.
- OK! This is a conversation on topic!
- Visit your grandfather's grave! Say hello to our neighbors from us,” the mother began to give instructions, “don’t hang out with the village boys, Andryusha, they all drink vodka from a young age.”
Take your mobile phone with you. If you call...
-OK! I'll figure it out, not a little. They're sick of their Soviet upbringing.
The mother still wanted to add something, but she just looked at her father anxiously and fell silent.
In the morning she escorted them to the rural bus, slipped a bag with gifts, and again with incomprehensible emotion, she finally said:
- If something goes wrong, don’t scold your grandmother. She buried her husband, whom she met on the virgin lands, as if she were completely different... Well, with God!
- Okay, mom! “Well, we don’t understand,” said Olga. She put on a new colored dress, sewn with her own hands, and in it she looked like a painted nesting doll. Soviet authority, bread cards, red terror...
“You should definitely go home,” said Andrei, tying his long hair at the back of his head into a braid. “You won’t be able to listen to all your lectures in a year.” The communists have been reading morals to you all your life, now you have already swayed us.
They arrived in the village only in the evening - the grandmother lived so far away. We found her house - small, under aspen shingles, with peeling windows, on which wooden carvings were preserved in places, with a fragrant fence, covered with hops, and a gate that creaked throughout half the village.
This dwelling was wide open, although there was no one inside. In the kitchen, peroxided dough was swelling out of a tub, there were some bundles with things everywhere, as if the hostess was preparing for an urgent evacuation. There was an oblong basket on the table, full of mushrooms, probably collected in the morning. In the corner, a smoky icon in an old frame glittered dimly, from which the Mother of God looked at the squalor of the village hut with infinite patience.
“Where is our heroic granny, Alexandra Nikolaevna?” said Andrei, hiding the bags under the bench.
“Why doesn’t she look after the dough!” Olga exclaimed, and quickly rinsed her hands under the sink and began to knead the dough.
The girl’s thin arms, sharp at the elbows, quickly moved back and forth.
- No Andrey, this is a mess! Look, the mushrooms are already withered. Her floor hasn’t been washed for a long time. I don't like this...
She found a large basin, dumped the mushrooms from the basket into it, and poured a bucket of cold water over them.
“Why are you running around here,” my brother muttered. “You and I are just guests here...”
- Oh, something is wrong here... My heart feels it.
- Okay, enough wailing. Let's go look for the owner. She's probably drying the hay. Why does she need a goat? I just can’t figure it out.
- Yes, Andryusha, let’s go quickly!
And they went to the back of the estate. The weather was unusually good. There was an intoxicating smell of mown and withering grass, and it seemed that even the plump clouds in the sky, wandering around the world, also smelled of hay. And the fields, and the road, dried out from the heat, and neighboring villages scattered across the green space, and all of Russia at this time smells of hay. This smell is from the earth to the stars, and there are so many stars above this country that they have not all been counted yet.
Multi-colored butterflies fluttered everywhere, like flowers that had come to life and fallen from plants. A titmouse watched them from a bird cherry tree with a predatory gaze. Sometimes she would quickly fly up and swallow one of them on the fly, as if she was extinguishing multi-colored lanterns in the air.
“Oh, how wonderful!” Olga spread her arms. “It’s good that we escaped from the city.” We would sit there and get sour... We would listen to your nonsense. I think I’ll pick a bouquet... The flowers are fresh, just washed with dew in the morning.
And she skipped across the meadow. From each flower, before it was picked, a bee or wasp had to be politely sent away. Without asking permission, they stole nectar and did not want to give up their prey. The summer was generous - it gave everyone a flower, no matter how many insects there were.
Inside the clover head, which looked like a pink mini-hat, a large bumblebee with a velvet back was scurrying about, purring loudly.
Seeing the girl, he immediately got off the plant and rushed to her colored dress, mistaking it for a large, strange flower.
Olga waved her hands, avoiding such an insistent introduction.
- Shoot... Shoot, I say... Get out. Wow, what a pester. Mom-ah!” she squealed and ran away. The bumblebee first rushed after her, but then abandoned the pursuit.
The grandmother was found on the bank of a small stream that went around the back of the village. She was sleeping serenely, leaning against a fresh pile of hay. There was a towel spread on the grass. lay on it boiled eggs, bread, onion. And there stood a half-drunk bottle of wine, plugged with a bunch of grass.
Olga's face first became covered with spots, then the girl turned deathly pale.
-Grandmother! Wake up!” she squealed heart-rendingly.
The old woman grumbled something incomprehensible, without opening her eyes, pulled a scarf over her face, and began snoring more than ever, alternating moans with deep whistles.
- Normal, however! – Andrei muttered, looking around. “Wow, a village... Yes, here I see not only young people, everyone is thoroughly stormed...
- Is she drunk?
- Don't you see? There's a glass lying in the grass. Haymaking is fun.
- Our grandmother is drunk! How is this possible? – Olga moaned with disgusted bewilderment, and even jumped to the side.
“We’ll wake you up now,” Andrey said confidently. “It’s not time to sleep at such a busy time.”
- He touched the old woman on the shoulder.
- Hello, citizen! Don't sleep. Show your documents...By any chance, are you selling a goat for cheap?
The old woman took off her scarf and sat down. She looked terrible. They hung in their hair White hair, the wrinkled face was swollen, the eyes looked blankly at the world.
Olga gasped and folded her hands over her chest, as if she was about to cross herself. My eyelashes did not quiver often.
Who are these? - the old woman asked hoarsely. - Get out of here...
There is no point in trampling the grass. Shoo told you...
- Grandma, hello! We are your grandchildren. They have come to help you. Our parents sent us...
- Take the landing, grandma! Just got off the bus. It took five hours to get to you.
“What other grandchildren?” the old woman rasped in bewilderment, shaking her disheveled head, like a witch’s.
- Don’t you have grandchildren? What are you, grandma? Oh, my God, she doesn’t understand anything...
Olga had already begun to sob. For her, the world had definitely turned upside down. All the grandmothers she knew from children's fairy tales were wise and kind. Drunk grandmothers were not in any books.
- I have many grandchildren...Who live here, who travel abroad. What's your name?
She had already woken up completely and was packing a meal in a towel. She plugged the unfinished bottle of wine with another bunch of grass, smiled toothlessly, and carefully lowered it into the pocket of the old woman’s jacket.
- My name is Olya, and this is Andrey!
-Where is Ninochka? Where is Martha?
- So they are in Germany... What are you doing, grandma? I completely forgot. We are the children of your son Igor, and Nina and Marta are the children of your son Arthur. Uncle Arthur and his whole family now live in Germany...Do you understand or what?
“Yes!” she answered, rising to her feet with a grunt. “Because we classified Igor as Russian according to the metrics, and identified Arthur as German...
“It would be better if you wrote down our father as a German,” Andrei muttered. “We would also go beyond the cordon.”
- Do you, grandma, understand everything now?
Olga began tucking her gray hair into her scarf and brushing the hay off her jacket. She tried to quietly pull a bottle of wine out of her pocket and throw it into the bushes, but the old woman, smiling predatorily, silently grabbed her thin pale hand
- The devil won't understand you. Previously, everyone lived at home. Houses lived and houses died. And so you came to visit me. I am always glad to have guests. Welcome! I felt like you were coming. In the morning I went to the forest to pick mushrooms. Nowadays, mushrooms themselves jump into the basket. I put the dough on the pies.
- Grandma, we came to help you prepare hay for your goat. Andrey knows how to mow...
- I don’t have any goat...
- Achtung!
- How is it not? Grandma, why haven’t you woken up yet? Lord, what is this?
- I sold a goat...Two weeks ago. There’s no milk now, but now I have money for wine,” and she shook in a stupid, drunken laugh.
“Why are you drying the hay?” Olga discouragedly pointed at the finished hay.
- But out of habit... I’ve been mowing all my life, and now I’m mowing. I'll sell it to someone in the winter.
- All clear! The ancestors caused panic with this goat. She doesn't need chewing gum anymore.
“So can we go back now?” Olga said in confusion.
- But no! I'm not supposed to do that. We will prepare pies with mushrooms and green onions. And you can’t leave now. The bus to the city will only go in the morning... Let's go, dear grandchildren to the house!
And she walked briskly along the path. The grandchildren followed her. In the yard, grandma washed herself directly from the tub with warm rainwater, combed her hair, and her eyes immediately looked younger.
“Don’t listen to what I told you just now, kids,” she said guiltily. “Don’t tell your parents about the goat and the wine... I’m afraid they might take me to the city.” They put me in a cell, they tell me to live according to a schedule...Here in the village I have paradise, and there it’s forced.
“Okay, grandma!” Olga smiled. “Just don’t drink wine anymore.” My heart just skipped a beat, just like when I saw you drunk just now.
At home they began to prepare pies. Olga was sorting a mushroom basket, Andrey, having picked green onions from the garden, chopped them on a cutting board with a large homemade knife. Tight, juicy feathers creaked and fell off in shimmering green rings. Large white eggs were being tapped in a saucepan on the stove. The pies were expected to be great.
“Grandma, why are your things packed?” Olga asked, pointing to the bundles placed throughout the hut. “Are you planning to move somewhere?”
“Or are you planning air raid drills in the village?” Andrey grinned.
- Oh, kids. Your grandfather and I were once burned by lightning.
Now there are thunderstorms and I’m more afraid of death. I collected all my things in advance. Last time I couldn’t save anything,” she exclaimed while kneading the dough. “And I’ll give you instructions.” If there is no thunderstorm, Andryusha, grab the knot under the icon, and you, Olenka, grab a sheet with blue stripes. I have all the photos there. My husband, your grandfather, that is, your children... There is one card from the virgin lands. But God willing, everything will work out.
- Grandma, how did you meet your husband? “Mom says that you were a tractor driver in the virgin lands,” Olga asked, carefully removing worm-infested areas from the mushrooms.
“It was such a thing!” the grandmother laughed. “The party then called out “Girls on a tractor.” I studied and went to distant lands on a Komsomol ticket. I had never seen such steppes before, but now I had to plow them up... One guy worked in our brigade. Tractor repair. So tall, curly, gray eyes, just like a prince from a fairy tale. When I saw him for the first time, I immediately thought sinfully: “I wish I could have such a husband and bring him to my village. Everyone would burst with envy!”
“Well, did you bring it, grandma?” Olga shouted cheerfully. “She had already completely calmed down, and her cheeks were glowing with a healthy blush.”
- We know the deal! Wasn't I a beauty too? She treated the boy like he was cute. And she dragged herself to the registry office, and arrived in the village with a ready-made belly. So it didn’t take long for the Komsomol member to master the virgin soil...
“Oh, grandma, well done!” Olga stamped her foot. “Wow, what a character you had... Combat!”
- There was only one embarrassment, granddaughter... One misunderstanding happened for the rest of my life.
- Wow! Interesting!
- Everyone in the brigade called him Anton. Anton and Anton! And the surname seems to be Krugin! And when they began to sign at the registry office, it turned out that he was not Anton at all, and not Krugin, but according to his documents, Axel Kruger. German! I, fool, in love, was I really interested in nationality? Even if you knew, what would be the point? I didn’t want to see anyone else around. One Kazakh flirted with me, proposed marriage... But he is from a different faith... Rather than marry a Kazakh, it’s better to marry a German. He's kind of like Nashan's guise. I, however, refused to take his last name. I’m Kuznetsova, we all have Kuznetsovs in our family, why the hell do I need these Krugers... But we decided amicably with the children so that there would be justice. When our first son was born, I gave in to my husband. Give him your last name and nationality, they say. This is how Arthur appeared, who now lives on the German side. And your father was registered according to my documents. He is Kuznetsov, and therefore you are Kuznetsovs... The next son would have been named Kruger again, and the fourth son again according to our pedigree. So we agreed. Who knows, maybe we would have reached ten, but my Anton died early, two children were just born. “She sighed heavily and bowed her head sadly. “Without him, I have no more sunshine in this life. I can’t wait until we meet in the next world.”
- You, granny, had a bad family contract. I would rather have a German surname. It was possible to go to Germany. I'm tired of this bast Russia. My father worked as an engineer at a factory all his life, but what did he acquire? Uncle Arthur already has three cars in the family...
- Don’t whine, Andryushka! Where I was born is where I came in handy,” Olga exclaimed. “And I like my last name...
- Why have you been fiddling with mushrooms for so long? - the grandmother grumbled. “So we won’t bake the piprogs by morning.”
- I don’t even know many of the mushrooms you picked. This one, for example, what is it called?
- Wolf sneeze!
- And this little one?
- Honey fungus? And that one is a dog's asshole!
- You can die from laughter... I have never seen such names in any book.
Only at sunset did grandma bake her famous pies. I wrapped half of it in a clean towel as a gift to my parents. Andrey greedily pounced on the treat. Olga also ate two pies and began cleaning the hut. Grandmother looked anxiously out the window and often crossed herself. A thunderstorm was gathering there. Then she turned off the light and lit a small thin candle, from which a subtle pleasant aroma spread throughout the hut.
Electricity attracts lightning,” she explained. “Do you remember well who should grab what in a fire?” Andryushka? Olyushka? Be on the lookout!
-Oh, grandma! Don't put fear on yourself. Only one lightning in a million lights fires on earth,” Andrey grinned, lustfully tearing off the top crispy crust from the pie, under which an even more aromatic filling emanated with steam.
- Grandmother! And you don't need electricity. Let the candle burn. It's like we're having an old time's party.
The real thunderstorm never happened. The clouds gradually cleared. Lightning struck the village from all sides and went out. Thunder, like a giant in iron boots, walked across the roof and, grumbling, sank into the forest.
- God bless! It's gone! - the grandmother said cheerfully, crossed herself again, and suddenly, spreading her arms wide, she easily fluttered into the middle of the hut. Then, waving a handkerchief at herself, she dashingly began to perform dance steps, similar either to “The Lady” or “Gypsy Girl,” fashionable in very distant years. So young, with enthusiasm. She walked around the table several times, stamped her heel, winked at her stunned granddaughter, and sang:

Oh, virgin land
- Starry-long nights
- Will I see you soon?
- My beloved in the steppe region

And she spun around the table again. Olga clasped her fingers tightly and turned pale. Following the virgin song, the grandmother sang some obscene ditty, and when, during the next dance step, she knocked a tea saucer onto the floor, breaking with a deafening ringing sound, Olga’s piercing cry was heard:
- Grandmother? Why did you drink wine again?
“Tick me, pointer!” the grandmother shouted angrily. “Why did you hide my wine?”
- I poured it out! Grandma, don't drink anymore. I ask you.” There were notes of despair in her voice.
- So what! She poured it out. And I have vodka. Yes, I drank and will drink again...
- No need, grandma! Do you hear? I can't stand this.
- If you don’t like me, you can leave my house. At least this moment.
She went to the closet, pointedly pulled out a bottle of vodka, poured herself another drink and drank. Then she showed the shish to Olga, who was in a semi-fainting state, and again went into drunken circles. The girl followed her and cried, repeating the same words. This went on for a long time.
- All! They got me... There weren't enough hysterics here. “I’ll call home,” Andrey said sternly and pulled out a mobile phone from his bag...
Early in the morning, my father arrived in the village on a factory bus. The grandmother was submissive and silent. Her father sat her in the front seat. Olga, exhausted and swollen from tears, was placed in the back row. Father and Andrey dragged the previously prepared bundles inside. A large padlock was hung on the house.
“Let’s go!” the father ordered the driver and gloomily lit a cigarette.

Jokes about drunk girls

D girls, guard! A bottle of vodka possessed me!

P I come home drunk. Mom from the kitchen:
- Daughter, what fell there?
- My clothes.
- Why with such a roar?
- And I didn’t have time to get out of it!

A Here are the three stages of a woman’s intoxication:
1. Oh, how drunk I am...
2. Who is drunk? Am I drunk???
3. To the taxi driver’s question “Where are we going?” hit him over the head with your purse and say: “It’s none of your business, you bastard!”

P It’s easier to bring a young girl to orgasm than to bring her home.

WITH said a decisive “No!” alcohol. It turned out that cognac doesn’t hear a damn thing...

8 March: drunken women, stained with chocolate, walk down the street, smash bottles of perfume on their heads and pester them with the question: “Have you given birth, damn it?”

AND Life just begins after fifty, the woman thought and asked to pour another fifty...

M The guy drank and forgot everything, the woman drank and remembered everything

AND Ena comes home in the morning, drunk and dirty.
Husband:
- Where were you??? Yes, if I could, I would shoot you, no, hang you, no, strangle you!!......
- And you gore me.

AND The wife, leaving for a bachelorette party, promised her husband to return at midnight. She comes home drunk and hears that the cuckoo crowed three times. She stayed busy until twelve and, pleased with her intelligence, went to bed. In the morning at breakfast my husband asks:
- Darling, what time did you arrive?
Wife:
- Well, didn’t you hear when the cuckoo crowed?
Husband:
- Yes, I think it’s time to change the cuckoo, today she crowed three times, then said “fuck,” stepped on the cat, farted loudly and went to bed.

TO company. They sit and drink. Girl - I can’t pour any more, there’s something wrong with my legs - Are they giving way? -No, they move apart

IN I don’t drink anymore... finally!
- Why?
- I returned from work on Friday... I was as tired as a dog. I decided to stay at home: I took a shower, dived under the covers and drank a whole bottle of cognac...
- So what?
- I was later seen in three restaurants... in that blanket.

U In the morning, the still slightly drunk girl approaches the mirror:
- I don’t know you, but I’ll paint you.

P A drunk girl is walking through the park at night. The guy catches up with her:
- Take off your clothes, I’ll rape you.
- Rapist? Cool! Listen, give me cunnilingus.
-Are you crazy?! I am a rapist - a vampire!!!
- Well, you’re having a blast today! I am having a period!

P The mouse fell into an empty vodka bottle and couldn’t get out.
A cat passed by, and she prayed: “Kitty, help me, and I will be yours!” Well, the cat knocked down the bottle with its paw, the mouse darted out of it and into the hole.
Cat: - Come on, get out, keep your word. You are mine now!
Mouse: - Oh, who believes the promises of a drunk woman?!

P Ok I'm sober. I will say that I am drunk and will ask you not to pour me more, but don’t pay attention.

I I like orange juice, and my girlfriends like peach juice... But when we meet, we drink vodka.

T The women decided to drink vodka. After work, it turns out that one has a mother-in-law at home - you can’t go to her, the second has a strict husband, the third has everything in full - husband, mother-in-law, children. They decided to dig at the nearby cemetery. The next morning the husbands of these girlfriends meet.
First:
- You know, my wife seems to have a lover - she came in the morning drunk with flowers.
Second:
- Yeah, mine seems to have two lovers - I came home with two bouquets.
Third:
- Oh, my God - and mine came home drunk, with a wreath “From all the lads” on her neck...
I'm so drunk when I'm stupid...

AND Ena comes home drunk! The husband waves an alarm clock in front of his nose and yells...
-Where were you???
- Don’t yell, otherwise next time you’ll be waving a calendar

D A girl writes an SMS to her ex, “Don’t answer the call, I’m drinking today!”

TO Why the hell did you show up at 5 am drunk again?
- And what? Am I not allowed to have breakfast with my family?

IN Unlike men, drunk women do not sway from side to side; they immediately fall.

IN Oda is extremely useful for men. Especially when a woman drinks it.

P yanaya is not drunk. who cares. Be glad, idiot, that I'm calling at all.

D oh, women don’t like drunk people... But how they love drunk women!

IN 4 am, the doorbell rings. The husband opens the door, there is a wife on the threshold, drunk as hell, her tights are torn, wearing only one shoe.... Husband: Do you think I’ll let you home like this????
- Wife:
Fuck it, I'm at the guitar!

WITH no matter how much you drink the girl, she still looks you in the eye!”

N Drink wine Gertrude, drunkenness doesn’t look good on ladies, they’ll see you on YouTube the next day - thanks to your friends!

G The cop stops a lady driving an expensive car. The lady comes out staggering.
“So, driving while drunk,” says the traffic cop.
The lady responded:
- You drive yourself.

N How can I explain to a man that it wasn’t me who called him yesterday, but five glasses of martini?

— L darling, I'm here!
— Drunk again? Here, go to where you drank!!!
- Hello, girls! I'll come now, I asked for time off.

H either on a drunk woman’s mind or on a drunk man’s mind, it will never work out!

P A drunk man evokes disgust, while a drunk woman evokes hope.

- A you're cool when you're drunk!!!
- Yes, you’re cool too when I’m drunk!!!

P The wife comes home drunk. The husband asks: Where have you been?
She answers:
Fishing.
The husband says: Where is the fish? Why wasn't there a bite?
Wife:
Why? It was cool

1

Here's another story on the topic:

It was winter in February. We were already home around 10 pm, and then she called good friend, he had DR. Well, she didn’t want to go, because... Tomorrow morning there were some things to do. But I persuaded her))) but she told me that if she goes, she will drink! I said only one condition: that I shouldn’t vomit in public, but at home it doesn’t matter. We decided on this.

Come, in general, there are tons of friends! We hadn’t seen many of them for a very long time, and then we split up. She went into the kitchen with the vodka drinkers, and I stayed in the hall chatting about cars and drinking beer. Periodically, she came out to me, I noticed that she was slowly getting drunk, her eyes were becoming cloudy and shining, and she was a little unsteady. She came up to me, I smelled a different smell of alcohol, and she said, honey, I feel like I’m going to shit myself today! I said that I was only glad for this, but warned me not to disgrace myself and not to vomit (since this had already happened more than once). In general, she went off to drink again) and we ran out of beer and I went with the guys for extras) When we returned, my wife was still drinking in the kitchen, and from her loud laughter and tangled tongue, I realized that she had almost reached her condition! I sat down to drink beer. After a bottle of beer, I decided to look into the kitchen because everyone was quiet. When I walked in, I saw a drunken wife, she was trying to change the ringtone on her phone. She drank vodka from a cup because she didn’t have any glasses, I don’t know exactly how much she drank, but she was ready. I hugged her, she smiled drunkenly and tried to get up, but, disappointed in her strength, she flopped back. She gathered her eyes into a bunch, and barely moving her tongue said, well, let’s sit, pour it. I didn’t keep myself waiting and poured almost a full cup, probably 150 grams for sure. And he handed it to her. My friends looked at me in surprise, saying that she was already in the shit, where did she go, but I gestured, saying calm down! Everything is OK))) She raised the cup and drained it in one gulp, and it was felt that she was managing it with difficulty! She swallowed the last sips about three times, they simply didn’t suit her. I thought I was going to puke right here. But she managed and drank every drop. I sat down next to her, hugged her, and sat there chatting about nothing for about 15 minutes, while my wife could no longer speak and was almost asleep, sniffling on her shoulder and drooling. I decided it was time for us. I started to lift her, with difficulty we managed to get up, and she asked to take her to the toilet, I asked vomit, she nodded. As soon as we entered, she immediately fell to the floor near the toilet, I began to lift her. Then she barely reprimanded me and made it clear that she wouldn’t vomit as she promised to take me home. I nodded everything is ok. We dressed her cheerfully, she couldn’t stand, one friend held her, and I put on her boots (good thing without heels) on the street it was slippery for a couple of blocks to the house we walked, all the way she kept repeating that she was drunk so specially for me will she fuck I'll get it when we arrive. In general, we arrived safely and she fell three times. Straight into the mud, in general it looked from the outside like a pig. One time when I was picking her up, already near the house, I inadvertently pressed on her stomach and saw how her cheeks began to puff up, but I managed to stroke her, told her to breathe, and he seemed to hold back almost vomiting. We went into the apartment, while I opened the door, my wife lay in a ball under the door. I picked her up, took her into the apartment, took off my shoes! And then, resolutely staggering from wall to wall, she padded onto the bed and plopped down on it. She looked like this. The mouth is open, drooling, the T-shirt has ridden up, in general it’s full of goodness. I undressed her, she didn’t even move, put her on the floor, and straightened the bed. I started to lift it and then it started, she ended up vomiting in the aqueduct, that’s PPC. In short, with a powerful stream, I vomited all over my belly, knees and floor. Moreover, I held her head; she couldn’t do it herself. After this outpouring, I took her to the bathroom, washed her a little, brought her home again, fucked her perfectly, only she vomited from the bed again, after sex she sobered up a little, and was able to at least lower her head from the bed. I gave her water. We also had sex, I won’t describe it, the process of intoxication is important for readers, just like me, I think ex is in second place, I will say that the sex was super and she sucked great!!! Then she passed out; in the morning, as always, she was wildly ashamed, looking at her vomited clothes and at the puddle of vomit near the bed. I said that everything was OK, and began to look after her, give her some water, feel sorry for her, this always happens after such drinking sessions. In general, once a month, sometimes every two months, I deliver my wife home in this condition and I love it very much!!!

If anyone is interested, I will continue to write) just leave detailed comments about what you like, what exactly to describe in more detail, what can be omitted. And in general the attitude towards such a wife. I would post the photos, but I’m afraid it will go viral on the internet and he won’t forgive me, and our relationship is very dear to me, where else can you find a beautiful girl who gets so drunk)))

BB everyone!!! I'm waiting for your comments!

It was believed that in a state of hangover, a hedgehog becomes even angrier and more merciless towards garden pests and more vigilantly guards the area where it lives from them...

The peasants placed plates of beer under almost every bush. Hedgehogs - great lovers of alcohol - did not keep themselves waiting long in large quantities gathered at the polling stations.

My sister lived for several days in Hollywood in a hostel with seven Australian citizens. Once they started drinking hard and one of them felt really bad. Well, she took pity on them and said, “Let me give you some coal.”

They started screaming, saying that you Russians have gone completely crazy to eat coal. She explained to them as best she could that this was not coal, and, supposedly, wood, specially burned, processed, etc. In general, everyone refused, and the one who had it worst of all accepted.

The essence of the incident in the city of Sochi is as follows. The drunken first-year students were swaggering and focused their attention on the Sochi fountain, which beckoned with its enchantment. One of the girls decided to make a joke and squatted over the central nozzle when it was turned off. A few moments later, a powerful stream of water suddenly burst out. The girl fell and then complained of pain in the lower pelvis. Arriving doctors did not find any injuries, but noted the loss of virginity.

Well, it's a masterpiece of stupidity! As in the good old song - at the festival of idiots I would be a member of the jury. Imagine, now this lady has official confirmation that her first man was the Sochi fountain. It’s a pity that due to lack of spirituality and lack of a civil passport, he cannot be forced to marry.

Why do you need a dog in the car? - to protect the driver, someone might answer like that. This will also be correct. But the best use of it was made by one eagle from the city of Novosibirsk. He put the dog behind the wheel when he was caught drunk by the traffic police.

When traffic cops drove a suspicious car into a dead end and approached it to present it to the disobedient driver, a dog was found behind the wheel... And the drunken owner of the car claimed that it was the dog who was driving the unit. No, what if?

They were drinking in a crowd somewhere. The drunken girl suddenly wanted to go home at 2 o’clock in the morning. The drunk guy decided to give her a ride. How and why they were driving there - I don’t know, but a traffic police crew passing by saw a car with emergency lights at the fork and a pretzel crawling along the roadway.
Upon closer examination, it turned out that the pretzel had a screwdriver in his hands, and the markings were quite damaged.
When asked what exactly the young man was trying to convey to the general public with this performance, a completely adequate answer was received: “I need to turn around, but there are two solid ones... But I don’t want to disturb.”

A neighbor at the dacha told me that it was Uncle Gena, now a pensioner, and in the mid-nineties he was a commuter train driver. At one of the stops, two drunk young men, about 18 years old, enter the vestibule of the first carriage. They do not enter alone, but with mopeds. They chatter for a while, drinking beer, and don’t seem to be bothering anyone. When they ran out of beer and things to talk about, they came up with a new entertainment.

They began to “measure their tits” - they started their mopeds, accelerated, and found out whose engine roared louder. The carriage was full of smoke; the few passengers in the evening moved to the next carriage. Even in the cabin of the locomotive crew it became impossible to breathe. The assistant driver, a guy not much older than these Schumachers, goes out into the vestibule.

Guys, turn off your engines, you're not driving here alone...
- What about you? Has the main one been found? Your job is to press levers and announce stops, so go and do your job and don’t disturb the boys’ rest!
“I’ll call the police now, you’ll serve fifteen days for hooliganism.”
- Go ahead, call me at least three times, we’ll still get off at the next stop, these assholes won’t even have time to get into the car, and we’ll be in the next village in our Deltas, we have 80 cc cylinders. Do you hear how they growl? (followed by a jerk of the throttle and a cloud of acrid smoke from the exhaust pipe).

One fine and rather frosty day in the mid-eighties, our director, together with the district committee instructor, the chief engineer and the head of the site, decided to go to the logging site with a small check. About five kilometers before the camp, the road was blocked by a skidder with checkered logs of wood. While the tractor was diligently breaking through the snowy edge, giving way to the UAZ, the management went out to smoke. At the same time, they called a tractor driver, who was still able to drive the skidder off the road. The instructor sniffed the air in the frosty air and:
- Yes, he’s drunk!
- Really drunk! - the director also sniffed, confirmed - you, Nikolaenko, hand over the tractor today, and tomorrow you will be the first timber truck to the village, I will fire you on the thirty-third.
At first the tractor driver seemed to want to mumble something, desperately pointing at the tractor without windows and doors, but, looking at the stony faces of the management, he desperately waved his hand and headed towards his iron horse. Then the situation got out of control...

When I was a student (and this was not so long ago), three senior-student journalists and I (violent, cheerful people, worried about God forbid! the introduction of Prohibition) rented a 3-room apartment in the Nivok area. Journalists fermented in a black way - from work they crawled to the apartment by 23.00, screaming: “Mom came - she brought me a drink!” burst into the hall - the place of our nightly intellectual conversations about politics, history and other topical topics - and began to throw beer, cognac, vodka, etc. onto the table from the inside of their outerwear at the speed of an ATM. Moreover, all this was already drunk and the journalists’ brains, tired after work from chats and ICQ, demanded urgent relaxation by attracting a green (and mostly still transparent) serpent. And the process of setting the banquet table began.

Where are you cutting the sausage for the table?! I dried my shoes on it yesterday!
- Well, is it because of your bullshit that we can’t eat sausage now? - somehow it turns out illogical...
- Listen, logician, put the newspaper on the table and don’t worry, we found the problem...

In general, with such friendly, good-natured banter, we began to eat at about half past midnight. When sitting down at the table, the news channel was always turned on and a discussion began: “Which of the journalists is honest, who is corrupt, who is a pro, who is an asshole, who is an asshole, etc. After about forty minutes I realized that we have only assholes in our country (and this concerned of the entire population), the country is in trouble, the war will start tomorrow and in general the scribe crept up unnoticed...

Preamble. For those who don’t know, hedgehogs bite painfully. If you get them very hard (judge for yourself - they can crush both a rat and a snake, like your mongoose). Especially in the spring, when they come out of hibernation - angry, perhaps, half asleep? And who is good in the morning?..

It happened last year. Exactly in May. The man arrived at the dacha in the evening. Friday. Evening. At the dacha there is a wife, mother-in-law, and five-year-old daughter. They dined in company, the man took a fair amount of it on his chest - on Friday, with his wife and mother-in-law.

They stayed up until 12 at night. Tea there, this and that... The man went into the garden "until the wind." And there's a hedgehog. Healthy. Well, the guy was drunk and drunk, but he dealt with the hedgehog and caught the animal. He thinks I’ll show it to my daughter in the morning so that the child will be happy. Only bad luck - while he was twisting the hedgehog and wrapping it in bracelets, it, resisting arrest, bit through his hand - the flesh of his palm, and in two places.

A man brings the arrested hedgehog to the terrace, washes off the blood, and his mother-in-law says to him: “You are a fool. Hedgehogs carry rabies. So the khan...” The man, understandably, is horrified. So what to do? We need to go to the hospital, there are injections, this and that. And he's pretty drunk. Can't get behind the wheel. Electric trains no longer run. Complete, in short, pitchforks. He feels bad and scared. The hedgehog, dropped on the floor, swears under the sofa. The wife is horrified. The mother-in-law also swears like a hedgehog.

A friend of mine never says “last”, but only “last”.
When you ask him “Where are you going?” - answers: “Don’t block my way!”
At first it was perceived as a joke, but often it reaches the point of insanity!
He knocks on wood and spits over his left shoulder.
Does not walk under two pillars, etc. designs.
Doesn't shake hands across the threshold.
And he doesn’t take the money in his hands in the evening, he asks to put it on a tree or the ground.
However, all this does not stop him from driving while intoxicated!...

I once had a fight with my best friend on the eve of her birthday. The next day I wrote to her, but she did not answer. I came home from work, washed my face, put on a robe, poured myself some whiskey and... And after a while I felt so sorry for myself - I can’t describe it! In general, I decided to have a blast on my own, got up, put on my sneakers and went to the club. Right in the bathrobe. What’s most interesting is that they even let me in. The problem is that at some point I sobered up and found myself on the dance floor in this form. The rest of the evening, in general, had to be spent in the toilet stall. Okay, I took my phone with me and finally got through to my friend. We made peace. She even took someone's jacket with her to cover me.

Maria, 25 years old

I got drunk with my friends at a club and walked home barefoot because it was no longer possible to walk in shoes. I came and realized that my husband was already asleep, but in the morning he would definitely understand everything - just by the powerful smell of fumes and dirty heels. This means that in order not to get caught, you need to drink adsorbent at night, open the window and be sure to wash your feet. I ate enough coal, so I opened the window and washed my feet very thoroughly. I just forgot to take off my stockings.

Evgeniya, 33 years old

It was about being a student. We gathered at a friend's house with a large group. He had his own two-story house and a very kind mother, who said that she made my bed downstairs, in the room by the stairs. At some point, I staggered towards the stairs, intending to go down and go to bed. But, firstly, I lost my balance in the middle and flew down, and at the foot of the stairs the kindest shepherd Jackie was sleeping. I fell right on top of the dog, but she managed to endure it in silence. And secondly, then I opened the door to the room, saw a sofa with a pillow and a blanket right ahead and collapsed on it, having time to think that it was somehow uncomfortable. And for some reason there is no bed linen. I woke up to Jackie licking my face, and a friend’s mother standing in the room and whispering: “Baby, you slept on the dog’s sofa, this is her sofa, and I made a bed for you here...” And she points to the lush bed directly opposite. The linen was shining white, and the corner of the blanket was even folded back. Like in the screensaver “Good night, kids!”

Anastasia, 27 years old

I met with a friend, we stayed up late, and I had to go home out of town. I decided to stay with my parents. I ring the doorbell and understand that I need to try hard to pretend to be sober, otherwise mom and dad will be upset. When I walk in, I take off my jacket and shoes and understand that the whole family is somehow watching this process too closely. At the same time, I hear some strange background sound, very disgusting. I’m trying to put on an even more sober face, and then my mother finally can’t stand it and says: “Maybe you’ll get off the cat’s tail already?!” The whole scene didn’t last long, of course, but it was memorable forever.

Elena, 24 years old

I received my first salary and immediately bought myself contact lenses: I’ve dreamed about them all my life. A couple of days later I got drunk while visiting friends, realized that I wouldn’t make it home and stayed the night. Before going to bed, I removed the lenses and put them in a glass of water. And in the morning, of course, I drank water. Along with lenses.

Vera, 21 years old