“...Blondes. Cunning and mysterious, they enter my soul on delightful ships. Not on some boats, shredding the surface of the sea with a roar and creating foam, disappearing as quickly as they appeared, but on ships. On old, delightful frigates. Majestic and long lasting. The first blonde visited in the late eighties. I was twelve years old then. I waited for her in the evenings. I sat in front of the TV and was nervous because her appearance was often delayed. The reason is Soviet power..."