Пофлудим в своё удовольствие!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Флуд по заявкам: Мумий Троль - Точно ртуть алоэ

Карнавала НЕТ

но карнавала не будет,
и все утонет в слезах,
а я моторы гондолы
разбираю на части.

подметаешь лепестки.
в иссохшихся площадях,
пытаешь гладить на ощупь,
ошарашенный страстью.

карнавала не будет,
но карнавала нет!

часы опоздали,
и мы опоздали,
ручьями на даче,
за встречи рыдали,

тушили камин,
замеряли перо,
наверное - это
когда повезло.

тебе повезло,
продираясь без сна,
смог пиво начать пить
после вина.

к последнему танцу
красотки все злы,
мне откололся на пару
лишь осколок Луны.

Не очень

вылакает малахита,
с косточки нежной,
что наслаждает.
куда развернуть твои 15 минут?
а кто, кто его знает?

и тревога в часах,
и тревога в руках,
и нервным улыбкам
тошнит еще больше.

так все же не очень
так все же не очень

сто новостей и один телевизор,
под мехом снегов и обветренных улиц,
из окон, как сплетни, расползшихся кашей,
выходим по следу сибирских красавиц.

и солнце ближе к востоку,
их целых два стало сбоку,
и в каждой луне по ране,
поглубже и дольше.

так все же не очень
так все же не очень

якоря не бросать,
их уже не осталось.
мы скоро увидимся...
мы никогда не увидимся...

Скорее и быстро


раздавленные солнцем,
укушенный судьбой,
кому-то некогда больше
не лечь рядом со мной...
планеты все свихнулись,
но только не моя,
не будет жалко континента мне,
ведь это - не земля.

мне ничего не жалко,
не разбираясь в числах,
пусть только все получится
скорее и быстро.

осколочные бомбы
залетают на ходу,
меня три раза обманули,
я больше ничего не жду.

высохшими губы просят
взять и порулить,
но это невозможно-
утром осталось что допить.

все это невозможно,
сверяя все по числам,
наверное получилось все
очень очень быстро.

удрать, не оправдавшись,
соблазны не малы,
удушливы объятия
июньской жары.

в водорослях запутавшись,
закроет солнце службу в 5,
заиндевевшие мои миндалины
не жалко сорвать.... опять.

мне ничего не жалко,
не разбираясь в числах.
пусть только все получится
скорее и быстро.

Моя певица


и всыпал снег не случайно,
это я заметал следы.
он такой не сладкий,
и совсем не красный,
наверное как ты...

иней стал на ресницы,
замерзали духи...

моя певица умирает назавтра,
ей бы понюхать последних секунд,
моя певица умирает назавтра,
но ее не вернуть...

заманили в афиши,
пристрелялись и к темноте,
мы поедем в город,
будет все серьезно,
ты если сдашься, то мне.

расплатились венками -
заплели на букет.

моя певица умирает назавтра,
ей бы понюхать последних секунд,
моя певица умирает назавтра,
но ее не вернуть.
Северный полюс


на северном полюсе
разлиты до соболей,
раздеты до пояса,
затаились отважные.

раза раза три готов,
разорвать твою любовь!

немножко не выжили,
затянулись сигарами,
я пары усталости
меняю в стаю желания.

круги нарезав полярные,
одиночки - герои - мы,
взаимно влюбленные
подводные лодочки.
Невеста


ба-бац! открываешь глаза,
клац! зубы выдерживают.
щетки, пасты, духи и бусы
больше чем спасают.
здорово! великолепно!
бьешься за жизнь, за завтра,
и даже иногда за меня.

как бы тебе повезло -
моей невесте.
завтра мы идем тратить все свои,
все твои деньги вместе.

ям-ям! йогуртом по губам.
ав! воздух с завтрака плавит.
будильник сработает в пять,
исчезаю -
был не лучший день гладить тебя.

не с первого раза
открываются тайны,
а с тысячного рубля.
Жабры


тысячелетие наперевес -
что еще подождать?
то ли съесть мне сердец
твоих - еще раз?
и косточки сплюнув,
вишня как будто,
чуть - чуть поднапрячься,
все будет все хорошо...

мы еще красивее ееее
и жабры порвутся ееее
спасибо,
жабры,
спасибо большое большое о е!

когда ты заходишь,
то я выключаюсь мгновенно,
уже мне не вспомнить
ни запах, ни почерк,
улыбки остались только из скобок,
спасайте меня,
собой буду вас прикрывать.

а если завтра не будет завтра -
мы в ночь уезжаем поплавать:
здесь слишком мало пузырьков для двоих.

Клубничная


где меня еще никто никто не видел,
где тебя еще никто никто не знает,
ляжем мы на камни как тюлени,
или как положат,
распластаемся под солнцем ураганным,

полетим мы на луну муну муну... е!
отыграемся на стеклах до кипенья,
отступаем авиационным флотом,
эта женщина намазана вареньем.

угоняли катамараны,
настигали солнце и
совсем другие звезды,
и зубами не пропишешь
на губе на нижней -
все!
чуть-чуть осталось, нет терпенья,
ожидание кисло:(

записать все в ноты на песке ногтями,
вырвать на узоры третьей синей пеной,
солнцу не ответил, но записал словами,
муравьями падали на кафельные стены

пьяными, пьяными...

пьяными от меда , от волнующей груди,
если сам и выбрал-
на! попробуй отними,
закатай мне шарф по локоть
и разнежь коленки спиртом,
я нам на ночь снял полнеба,
только позабыл взять адрес...
что теперь сказать таксисту?

что теперь соврать тебе?

Сны


тогда ночью все ясно,
если ты мне молчишь...
мне без слов твоих видно,
в глазах твоих слышу,
ты ими кричишь...

так не для нас...

я ищу твои губы
ослабевшей рукой,
это капельки страсти,
яды любви,
по мне как рекой...

поспеши показать мне
потайные ходы,
где такие тоннели,
в которых завязли
по самые лампочки
лучшие сны.

Без обмана

катастрофически западает солнце,
непристойно хрустит воздух
между травой и мною.

между нами между нами между нами
раскопали секреты своими руками

между нами между нами между нами
все будет
без обмана!

выпил все все слова со страха,
головокружение вставит
знаки вопросов и точки
между нами
все влажно -
мы в тумане.

Ему не взять тебя

ему не взять тебя с собою,
слишком странно все как будто,
неприятными минуты
раздавили босоножки,
пусть тревожно, он останется живой.

никогда и не подумай,
это было раз, как сказка,
разрисована в картинках,
на заранее бумаге
слиплась краска, скис и растворитель.

напряженным веком с виски,
по турецким телебашням,
откарнать без наказанья,
я беру этот город на память -
он нравится мне...

ему не взять тебя с собою,
отрицая правила движения,
день устал не торопиться,
где-то сто сердец биенье
в стерео войдет - и не остановится.

ремни сзади,
не распутав,
остаются...

Тише

завтра я приеду, но звонить не собираюсь,
с зоной телефона - все в порядке,
я не спорю....
но по подземельям,
и с 12 до утров,
мета мета мета
разметаются в таком порядке,
как никто еще и не дышал тебе на ушко,
тише, тише, тише!
ты-ты-тута, ты-ты-тута
где где где я?

белых свитеров по нитке - не найдешь
себе на память,
тень развода, сплетни скрипки
размывает, строим планы,
битые тарелки
и проколотые барабаны,
шара шара шара шара!
юбки рвались без оглядки,
но до утра я так и не слышал себе на ушко...

Случайности

и очнешься,
и узнаешь-
растерявшие блокноты,
потерявшиеся в пепел,
все друзья сменили вдруг телефоны,
но продолжают все влюбляться.
в глупых все - и в незнакомых.
не пегасы - мелочиться:

так мне показалось вроде,
так, наверное, и случится.
берегись, случайность,
это иду я!

сам заглянешь,
себя спрятав.
тихо так... стравив веревки,
чтобы баржи в океане
убежали, с ними наши спальни,
и проценты в самом лучшем мире банке,
больше нам за них не плакать,
за любовь - не расплатиться!

так мне показалось вроде,
так, наверное, и случится!
берегись, случайность,
это иду я!

и проснешься,
снов нет - слов нет,
медсестре сломав иголки,
песни все под ребра спрятав,
обменяю почему? все,
и раздам ответы даром...
кто в салат, а кто плакат на стены...
завтра мама удивится.

Ба. Открылся наконец...
Быстро же тебя однако, мамонт дикий сломал.
Я еще не до конца дочитал книгу (жаль).
Кстати, почему Страйдеру не помог в беде?

Удивлена, ошарашена и дико обрадована!!!
Мало того, ты на меня ссылку сделал, так ещё и мой сайт не обосрал!^_^ К чему бы это???

Иван! Уйми бибурата поганого. Какого хрена он
на Страйдера попер... Это же не анимешный сайт.

Chapter I
An Unexpected Party

I
n a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit. Not a nasty, dirty, wet hole, filled with the ends of worms and an oozy smell, nor yet a dry, bare, sandy hole with nothing in it to sit down on or to eat: it was a hobbit-hole, and that means comfort.
It had a perfectly round door like a porthole, painted green, with a shiny yellow brass knob in the exact middle. The door opened on to a tube-shaped hall like a tunnel: a very comfortable tunnel without smoke, with panelled walls, and floors tiled and carpeted, provided with polished chairs, and lots and lots of pegs for hats and coats - the hobbit was fond of visitors. The tunnel wound on and on, going fairly but not quite straight into the side of the hill - The Hill, as all the people for many miles round called it - and many little round doors opened out of it, first on one side and then on another. No going upstairs for the hobbit: bedrooms, bathrooms, cellars, pantries (lots of these), wardrobes (he had whole rooms devoted to clothes), kitchens, dining-rooms, all were on the same floor, and indeed on the same passage. The best rooms were all on the left-hand side (going in), for these were the only ones to have windows, deep-set round windows looking over his garden and meadows beyond, sloping down to the river.
This hobbit was a very well-to-do hobbit, and his name was Baggins. The Bagginses had lived in the neighbourhood of The Hill for time out of mind, and people considered them very respectable, not only because most of them were rich, but also because they never had any adventures or did anything unexpected: you could tell what a Baggins would say on any question without the bother of asking him. This is a story of how a Baggins had an adventure, found himself doing and saying things altogether unexpected. He may have lost the neighbours' respect, but he gained-well, you will see whether he gained anything in the end.
The mother of our particular hobbit … what is a hobbit? I suppose hobbits need some description nowadays, since they have become rare and shy of the Big People, as they call us. They are (or were) a little people, about half our height, and smaller than the bearded Dwarves. Hobbits have no beards. There is little or no magic about them, except the ordinary everyday sort which helps them to disappear quietly and quickly when large stupid folk like you and me come blundering along, making a noise like elephants which they can hear a mile off. They are inclined to be at in the stomach; they dress in bright colours (chiefly green and yellow); wear no shoes, because their feet grow natural leathery soles and thick warm brown hair like the stuff on their heads (which is curly); have long clever brown fingers, good-natured faces, and laugh deep fruity laughs (especially after dinner, which they have twice a day when they can get it). Now you know enough to go on with. As I was saying, the mother of this hobbit - of Bilbo Baggins, that is - was the fabulous Belladonna Took, one of the three remarkable daughters of the Old Took, head of the hobbits who lived across The Water, the small river that ran at the foot of The Hill. It was often said (in other families) that long ago one of the Took ancestors must have taken a fairy wife. That was, of course, absurd, but certainly there was still something not entirely hobbit-like about them, - and once in a while members of the Took-clan would go and have adventures. They discreetly disappeared, and the family hushed it up; but the fact remained that the Tooks were not as respectable as the Bagginses, though they were undoubtedly richer. Not that Belladonna Took ever had any adventures after she became Mrs. Bungo Baggins. Bungo, that was Bilbo's father, built the most luxurious hobbit-hole for her (and partly with her money) that was to be found either under The Hill or over The Hill or across The Water, and there they remained to the end of their days. Still it is probable that Bilbo, her only son, although he looked and behaved exactly like a second edition of his solid and comfortable father, got something a bit queer in his makeup from the Took side, something that only waited for a chance to come out. The chance never arrived, until Bilbo Baggins was grown up, being about fifty years old or so, and living in the beautiful hobbit-hole built by his father, which I have just described for you, until he had in fact apparently settled down immovably.
By some curious chance one morning long ago in the quiet of the world, when there was less noise and more green, and the hobbits were still numerous and prosperous, and Bilbo Baggins was standing at his door after breakfast smoking an enormous long wooden pipe that reached nearly down to his woolly toes (neatly brushed) - Gandalf came by. Gandalf! If you had heard only a quarter of what I have heard about him, and I have only heard very little of all there is to hear, you would be prepared for any sort I of remarkable tale. Tales and adventures sprouted up all over the place wherever he went, in the most extraordinary fashion. He had not been down that way under The Hill for ages and ages, not since his friend the Old Took died, in fact, and the hobbits had almost forgotten what he looked like. He had been away over The Hill and across The Water on business of his own since they were all small hobbit-boys and hobbit-girls.
All that the unsuspecting Bilbo saw that morning was an old man with a staff. He had a tall pointed blue hat, a long grey cloak, a silver scarf over which a white beard hung down below his waist, and immense black boots.
"Good morning!" said Bilbo, and he meant it. The sun was shining, and the grass was very green. But Gandalf looked at him from under long bushy eyebrows that stuck out further than the brim of his shady hat. "What do you mean?" he said. "Do you wish me a good morning, or mean that it is a good morning whether I want not; or that you feel good this morning; or that it is morning to be good on?"
"All of them at once," said Bilbo. "And a very fine morning for a pipe of tobacco out of doors, into the bargain. If you have a pipe about you, sit down and have a fill of mine! There's no hurry, we have all the day before us!" Then Bilbo sat down on a seat by his door, crossed his legs, and blew out a beautiful grey ring of smoke that sailed up into the air without breaking and floated away over The Hill.
"Very pretty!" said Gandalf. "But I have no time to blow smoke-rings this morning. I am looking for someone to share in an adventure that I am arranging, and it's very difficult to find anyone."
"I should think so - in these parts! We are plain quiet folk and have no use for adventures. Nasty disturbing uncomfortable things! Make you late for dinner! I can't think what anybody sees in them," said our Mr. Baggins, and stuck one thumb behind his braces, and blew out another even bigger smoke-ring. Then he took out his morning letters, and begin to read, pretending to take no more notice of the old man. He had decided that he was not quite his sort, and wanted him to go away. But the old man did not move. He stood leaning on his stick and gazing at the hobbit without saying anything, till Bilbo got quite uncomfortable and even a little cross.
"Good morning!" he said at last. "We don't want any adventures here, thank you! You might try over The Hill or across The Water." By this he meant that the conversation was at an end.
"What a lot of things you do use Good morning for!" said Gandalf. "Now you mean that you want to get rid of me, and that it won't be good till I move off."
"Not at all, not at all, my dear sir! Let me see, I don't think I know your name?"
"Yes, yes, my dear sir - and I do know your name, Mr. Bilbo Baggins. And you do know my name, though you don't remember that I belong to it. I am Gandalf, and Gandalf means me! To think that I should have lived to be good-morninged by Belladonna Took's son, as if I was selling buttons at the door!"
"Gandalf, Gandalf! Good gracious me! Not the wandering wizard that gave Old Took a pair of magic diamond studs that fastened themselves and never came undone till ordered? Not the fellow who used to tell such wonderful tales at parties, about dragons and goblins and giants and the rescue of princesses and the unexpected luck of widows' sons? Not the man that used to make such particularly excellent fireworks! I remember those! Old Took used to have them on Midsummer's Eve. Splendid! They used to go up like great lilies and snapdragons and laburnums of fire and hang in the twilight all evening!" You will notice already that Mr. Baggins was not quite so prosy as he liked to believe, also that he was very fond of flowers. "Dear me!" he went on. "Not the Gandalf who was responsible for so many quiet lads and lasses going off into the Blue for mad adventures. Anything from climbing trees to visiting Elves - or sailing in ships, sailing to other shores! Bless me, life used to be quite inter - I mean, you used to upset things badly in these parts once upon a time. I beg your pardon, but I had no idea you were still in business."
"Where else should I be?" said the wizard. "All the same I am pleased to find you remember something about me. You seem to remember my fireworks kindly, at any rate, land that is not without hope. Indeed for your old grand-father Took's sake, and for the sake of poor Belladonna, I will give you what you asked for."
"I beg your pardon, I haven't asked for anything!"
"Yes, you have! Twice now. My pardon. I give it you. In fact I will go so far as to send you on this adventure. Very amusing for me, very good for you and profitable too, very likely, if you ever get over it."
"Sorry! I don't want any adventures, thank you. Not today. Good morning! But please come to tea - any time you like! Why not tomorrow? Come tomorrow! Good-bye!"
With that the hobbit turned and scuttled inside his round green door, and shut it as quickly as he dared, not to seen rude. Wizards after all are wizards.
"What on earth did I ask him to tea for!" he said to him-self, as he went to the pantry. He had only just had break fast, but he thought a cake or two and a drink of something would do him good after his fright. Gandalf in the meantime was still standing outside the door, and laughing long but quietly. After a while he stepped up, and with the spike of his staff scratched a queer sign on the hobbit's beautiful green front-door. Then he strode away, just about the time when Bilbo was finishing his second cake and beginning to think that he had escape adventures very well.
The next day he had almost forgotten about Gandalf. He did not remember things very well, unless he put them down on his Engagement Tablet: like this: Gandalf Tea Wednesday. Yesterday he had been too flustered to do anything of the kind. Just before tea-time there came a tremendous ring on the front-door bell, and then he remembered! He rushed and put on the kettle, and put out another cup and saucer and an extra cake or two, and ran to the door.
"I am so sorry to keep you waiting!" he was going to say, when he saw that it was not Gandalf at all. It was a dwarf with a blue beard tucked into a golden belt, and very bright eyes under his dark-green hood. As soon a the door was opened, he pushed inside, just as if he had been expected.
He hung his hooded cloak on the nearest peg, and "Dwalin at your service!" he said with a low bow.
"Bilbo Baggins at yours!" said the hobbit, too surprised to ask any questions for the moment. When the silence that followed had become uncomfortable, he added: "I am just about to take tea; pray come and have some with me." A little stiff perhaps, but he meant it kindly. And what would you do, if an uninvited dwarf came and hung his things up in your hall without a word of explanation?
They had not been at table long, in fact they had hardly reached the third cake, when there came another even louder ring at the bell.
"Excuse me!" said the hobbit, and off he went to the door.
"So you have got here at last!" was what he was going to say to Gandalf this time. But it was not Gandalf. Instead there was a very old-looking dwarf on the step with a white beard and a scarlet hood; and he too hopped inside as soon as the door was open, just as if he had been invited.
"I see they have begun to arrive already," he said when he caught sight of Dwalin's green hood hanging up. He hung his red one next to it, and "Balin at your service!" he said with his hand on his breast.
"Thank you!" said Bilbo with a gasp. It was not the correct thing to say, but they have begun to arrive had flustered him badly. He liked visitors, but he liked to know them before they arrived, and he preferred to ask them himself. He had a horrible thought that the cakes might run short, and then he-as the host: he knew his duty and stuck to it however painful-he might have to go without.
"Come along in, and have some tea!" he managed to say after taking a deep breath.
"A little beer would suit me better, if it is all the same to you, my good sir," said Balin with the white beard. "But I don't mind some cake-seed-cake, if you have any."
"Lots!" Bilbo found himself answering, to his own surprise; and he found himself scuttling off, too, to the cellar to fill a pint beer-mug, and to the pantry to fetch two beautiful round seed-cakes which he had baked that afternoon for his after-supper morsel.
When he got back Balin and Dwalin were talking at the table like old friends (as a matter of fact they were brothers). Bilbo plumped down the beer and the cake in front of them, when loud came a ring at the bell again, and then another ring.
"Gandalf for certain this time," he thought as he puffed along the passage. But it was not. It was two more dwarves, both with blue hoods, silver belts, and yellow beards; and each of them carried a bag of tools and a spade. In they hopped, as soon as the door began to open-Bilbo was hardly surprised at all.
"What can I do for you, my dwarves?" he said. "Kili at your service!" said the one. "And Fili!" added the other; and they both swept off their blue hoods and bowed.
"At yours and your family's!" replied Bilbo, remembering his manners this time.
"Dwalin and Balin here already, I see," said Kili. "Let us join the throng!"
"Throng!" thought Mr. Baggins. "I don't like the sound of that. I really must sit down for a minute and collect my wits, and have a drink." He had only just had a sip-in the corner, while the four dwarves sat around the table, and talked about mines and gold and troubles with the goblins, and the depredations of dragons, and lots of other things which he did not understand, and did not want to, for they sounded much too adventurous-when, ding-dong-a-ling-' dang, his bell rang again, as if some naughty little hobbit-boy was trying to pull the handle off. "Someone at the door!" he said, blinking. "Some four, I should say by the sound," said Fili. "Be-sides, we saw them coming along behind us in the distance."
The poor little hobbit sat down in the hall and put his head in his hands, and wondered what had happened, and what was going to happen, and whether they would all stay to supper. Then the bell rang again louder than ever, and he had to run to the door. It was not fo

Блин, и правда забыл...
Все, вспомнил. (пришлось перерыть гостевую
в поиске своего сообщ.)
А, ну тогда действительно знал...
Так как, удалась акция?

неа
кстати ты сам сказал про пиар
забыл?
склерозь?
Ж)))))))))

И что из-за этого весь сыр бор!!?
из-за бонаХХХ что-ли?

Чё за подстава Иван. С какого это ... ты решил
что я всё знал?
А атаковать мирные сайты невелика честь.
Нечем тут гордится...

Привет, Ваня.
Ладно, я не буду лезть на стенку, просто это было самое малое, что я могла сказать, так как не хотела ругаться... Это был просто выпуск пара. Как бы тебе объяснить. Просто я человек впечатлительный, и эта "акция" на меня подействовала нервноразрушительно... Поэтому так и вышло.

HEI! Wait a minute!
А где мой доклад?!
И где ответ на него?!

ВАНЬ! СЛЫШ! ТЕПЕРЬ МЕНЯ В СПАМЕ ХОТЯТ УТОПИТЬ! :-)

ВАНЬ! СЛЫШ! А ВЕДЬ МЕНЯ ХОТЕЛИ ПРИКОНЧИТЬ! ВИРУС ПОСЛАЛИ НА МЫЛО! ЧЕШКИ СОСУЩИЕ! ТАК ВОТ ЗНАЙТЕ КОЗЛЫ Я НЕ ИЗ ДОМА В ИНЕТ ЛАЖУ! СОСИТЕ НА ЗДОРОВЬЕ!
ВАНЬ ИЗВИНИ НО ТАК НАДО! НЕ УДАЛЯЙ МЕССАГУ!

Так че МРАКОБЕС - Бибурат?! Ну ни х.. себе!
А насчет войны надо встретиться поговорить.
Кстати! Дискета позарез нужна!
P.S.
за меня DUKE, Мадлен, WARRIOR, и gik!