A member is an assistant member. Please forgive me, but the person is absolutely normal and decent (not a deputy, a friend, of course) - the work is combined, and the money is nothing, but it goes.
He tells today:
The call. Grandmother is God’s stumbling, the voice is barely heard: “The spring has begun, we would have land and a fence from the deputies.” I stumbled, but I began to understand the matter. It turned out that the residents of Khrushchev ask for a machine of land in the common yard - to plant flowers - and to guard the green with a leather fence so that "these addicts" do not shake. I’ve gotten it out, but the joke is already born.