I went on a day with my husband on the drug market. As I walk past the wedding dress section, my gaze stops at one of them. I imagine myself in this beautiful dress. I whispered my husband’s ear:

“Andrei, let’s get divorced and get married again!

The response followed immediately:

I’t take that risk in your place.

On the same field, the bee finds flowers and honey, and the fly finds dirt and dirt.
The same goes for the Internet: one finds useful knowledge and the other seeks and finds dirt for the soul.

“Don’t fly to Europe.”
The case was this morning. The Munich airport. Nearly simultaneously two flights depart: MAU to Kiev and S7 to Moscow. Back to passport control.
Stand for 40 minutes. But there is a fast line for people with disabilities. And for some reason, it clearly breaks young and healthy people. The border guard did not call them. Guess who? A person of 10 from each of these two flights I exactly counted while the hour was in line. So why?
Why shouldn’t Europeans be ashamed? And in the post-Soviet brains such a primitive trick is the norm. You clock stand, and I'm a "type disabled" will pass without a line. Certificate confirmation does not ask, so can? is shameful. It is offensive. I was ashamed and upset all morning.
He got up early and spent the entire peak hour in Munich traffic. Bicycles, how many of them and how well organized! People massively drive to work on the great because they know that they are considered, respected and they will come alive. Carrying children on wheelchairs to kindergartens. I saw my mom carrying the twins in a special two-seat bicycle chair, which is attached to the front. I saw a wheelchair for a child. This is death on our roads. European style of life and freedom.
I know Munich badly and confused the ranks a couple of times. But they didn’t signal me or shout, “Dude, where are you going? They went!” I was missed with a smile. Aggression, selfishness, the habit of ignoring the rules and thinking only about yourself - all this in the blood of many "post-Soviet". In other words, the mentality. Until it changes, nothing will happen.
Everyone enjoys insulting the president and the authorities, writing problems on them. “This is our country,” many people like to say. Friends, the country is its citizens. We are with you. Yes, we are not lucky with presidents. But looking at how our people take up seats for people with disabilities, do not give way to women in the transport and do not get the entrances in which they live, and still are all the time dissatisfied with everything, I understand: no government will change the country until we change ourselves. You have to start with yourself.
I feel sad every time after Europe. Sometimes from the plane. The example today. I always register in advance for a flight and choose a place near the illuminator. I come, I am busy. This is often the case on our flights. I kindly ask to move. In response to me, as if with a reproach, they pointed to a place near the passage with a trailer: "So this is the same place, sit here, or did you sleep at the window?" I know ours. Going against the rules, people try to expose others as idiots and justify themselves. In any situation.
Culture is about small things. Such as sitting in the seat that you have in the ticket, not the one that you liked more. He said, “Maybe it will break.” It’s as simple as brushing your teeth, washing every day and not wearing one socks for 3 days, especially in the heat, forcing people in public transport to squeeze their noses and go aside.
The president, parliament and financial situation have nothing to do with this. It is not the president who parks on the lawns and watches in the elevators. Not because of poverty after a picnic in parks and forests, people leave a bunch of garbage. Deputies do not hinder collecting garbage in a bag and taking it with you.
I apologize for the emotionality and rude expressions. Some sort of hopelessness. and honestly. At least don’t fly to Europe, so that you don’t get disappointed and don’t feel ashamed. Such thoughts. But now I have arrived, and despite anything, I understand that I adore my country. We just need to re-educate some people. Not all, but many.

Why do prostitutes not go to parliament? Because they are accustomed to fulfilling their commitments.

Today, in order to become a "conspirologist", it is enough to tell people about the real state of affairs and point them to obvious causal relationships.

I watched the oil painting today.

I am standing at the stop, waiting for a colleague, knocking on the phone. Disposition: a woman and a man are sitting on the stop-box, also in the phones, near the garbage two men smoke and talk about themselves.

A guy, a little older than 20 years of age, sits on the bench from the edge and looks at one point. Almost immediately comes a little red plummet, a girl driving. The passenger glass descends, and the girl says, clearly addressing the guy: "Sereja! Oh the serenity! Stop showering, we went home, right?”

I am distracted by the phone (drama!I look at the serenity. The serenity sits like a stone, demonstratively looks to the side, does not react. The girl continues: "And the palm trees are waiting, I almost filled the freezer. I bought the creams.”

Action begins immediately. Both smoking men simultaneously shoot the bulls into the urn, one goes to the car, the other to Seret. The first opens the passenger door, the second grabs Serezhenko by the hand, and the man who was sitting before that nearby begins to help him: grabs under the second hand, the two of them tear the guy off the bench and drag to the car, halfway the smoker No. 1 joins them. I approach to help, but there is no place there, and they do well.

Three under the white scrolls stumble Serezhenko to the car and start to stumble there, while all three on him: "You are completely squeezed? Almost a full fridge! Such things are not abandoned! Live in the car until we stuck you in the trunk! Take the jacket! Yet another cream! Totally a fool?” Serezhenka has a slight shock on his face, he resists, but somehow sluggish. They knock him in the car, close the door, the girl screams “Thank you guys!” and collapses from place. The men look after, one says "I am a fool", the other answers "Yes, younger yet", everyone returns to their places.

Aliens are arriving on Earth. Delegations of different countries, religious leaders gather around and question the aliens about their lives.

When the turn comes to the Pope, he asks, “Do you know of the Savior and Lord our God, Jesus Christ?”

“A, Jesus,” the alien answered. “Of course we know him. He visits us every year to make sure we’re okay.”

Surprised, the Father cried out, “Every year? We have been waiting for his second coming for 2000 years.“”

The stranger sees that the priest begins to get angry and tries to reassure him: “Well, maybe he likes our chocolate more than yours.”

My dad wondered, “Chocolate? What does this have to do here?“”

“Yes the chocolate. When he first visited our planet, we gave him a healthy box of chocolates. Guess, what did you do?”

My mother told me. I am 18 years old, I live in a small town, I finish 1 course, the USSR has just collapsed. That evening, my mother is alone at home, there is a bell at the door. In front of the door is a middle-aged woman with an evil face. He holds the hand of a 16-year-old girl with a clearly noticeable stomach, all pointed, eyes to the floor.

Mom grabs the heart, the breath sparred, in the head immediately the thought about me - "I jumped!!!"

The Woman – Health! Jennie lives here?? to

Mom dyes for a second, exhales, and, not believing her happiness, answers: - No!!! The woman lives on the upper floor!

They buried the virus – they broke up medicine, the economy, education and the remnants of foreign policy.

245 km or shoes without shoes

My friend Andrei, for a month as I was wearing on "bushans", everywhere, on carpets and even on rubber boats. He made a documentary film, somewhere between Yenesay, Angara and Lena.
And, of course, as always, not in time, he had a bad tooth. Shooting the side, I needed to urgently look for a dentist. Andrei looked at the world's most beautiful landscape of green mountains going beyond the horizon, the dental clinic was nowhere to be seen, Andrei burned, and the pain increased. The truck driver, he knew everything here for hundreds of verts, so he said, as he cut off:

- Don't worry, here next to the village there is a good hospital, there is a dentist, 40 kilometers in total.
Nippon for yourself, all!
- According to our standards, with the hand to give, the hour in two should be.

The hospital was a small, one-story, wooden barracks of Soviet construction.
Dentist, thank God, worked that day and his office had a rough, but still alive row on the bench. Andrei found out who was the last, also sat on the shop and courageously waited. From nothing to do, he counted the people before him, multiplied them all by half an hour, there was a lot, very much. After some time, Andrei already knew the whole row by names, who was behind whom and who asked to sleep in the car.
Here, from the street came a man of fifty years, quietly greeted and sat far in the corner. He didn’t ask anything, he didn’t take the line, he just sat aside from everyone.
But here, the door of the office opened, a proud patient came out with a fresh seal and a new man rushed to the door with a corshun. Everyone stumbled, who was hurt to stumble, just stumbled, but the doctor jumped out of the office, guiltyly looked at the dissatisfied line, uncertainly-reconcilingly shrugged his hand and quickly pulled the naked patient to himself.
The revolution was ripe in the corridor, especially our Andrew, because he obviously will not often have to treat his teeth here and fear to spoil the relationship with the doctor, it is not scary.
After half an hour of sluggish rebellion, a clever man finally came out of the door, the doctor led him up to the exit, then stumbled into his office and brought out a beautiful box of champagne:

“Here, take a present from me for my wife – it’s sweet, women love it.

They soon said goodbye and the doctor returned to his suffering rebels:

Well, please come in. Who is next?
What is this...? How is it shameful? Without a turn, he went in, and he also had a champagne! They already got those blades! Sweet to him! You’re waiting here from six in the morning.
"Calm down, comrades, the man came, one can say, with acute pain, two hundred and forty-five kilometers away, and he has yet to return.
This is all with severe pain! You think, two hundred and forty-five, and I was almost three hundred here, and nothing broke up! That’s what, your relatives, why did you all move here for him?
In any case, for the sake of a relative, I’t even think of the turn to move. Here, my daughter came that week, she was also sitting in turn for half a day, you must remember. This is a completely different situation. I couldn’t keep him in line. True, I could not.
Is he your boss or a friend?
He is the same boss for me as I am for him. I have no boss, I am myself. He’s not my friend, yes, my friend. In general, to be honest, the less we see, the better for both of us.
Don’t be angry, comrades, it came out, think that I didn’t put the seal on him, but on myself. So is better?
In other words, to yourself?
“In short, this man is a dentist like me, and his clinic is two hundred and forty-five kilometers away, here we go to each other and treat our teeth. And where else?
There, by the way, are the same poor as you waiting for him now.
Excuse me again. Who is in turn? Please come in...

The manager of the cell operator company brought the dog to the veterinarian:
Her stomach hurts, do something. How much will it cost?
- Yes, without any problems, I will give you a medicine, 500 rubles.
The veterinarian takes the dog, after a couple of hours gives it and handed over the check for payment. The manager is upset:
and 10,000? This for what?
"And at the same time I castrated her, hips her right leg, cut her tail, cut her hair. I thought you would use it all.

I never liked Frodo. Selfish and superstitious, fu.



Yyy: It’s in the movie he’s displayed like this. It is different in the book.



He’s normal in the movie too. And all this of his aggression and the rest, it was because of the ring, Sam understood it, so he continued to endure it.



Zzz: In many families, the same shit is due to the ring. How do you start to live, normal like a hobbit, and then start... Bring me a fish, bring a stolen one, why do we only have sushi? I need more of my charms! Ukrainians, my youth is Ukrainians! And that is all.

Xxx: Hey, and I recently dreamed that I was on a business trip with a very nice male colleague. And for some reason we were given one room for two in the hotel, thank God, that with different beds. And here's the thing for the evening, the guy begins to be interesting to me so sticky, and like this my baby doesn't mind.

But home is a husband, children, 13 years of happy marriage, and all that.

I rush, think, and suddenly falls out - yes, what if it's a dream? I have such.

In dreams, you can even sneak.



But how do I know if I dream of this situation, or does it really happen?

I start to think logically – if I’m on a business trip, then in which city are we? I do not remember. How did you get there, by plane or by train? I do not remember...

And what in general can be a trip with an ordinary pharmacy employee?! to



Wow, it is a dream!! to

They chased!



YYY: The Fool!

People used to be simpler, but now they are more primitive.

The gasterbiters.

In 2007, I built a house in the village. The foundation was made by a brigade of prorabs, three Tajiks and two Russians. Then in the village with the finished concrete was deaf, so the prorab decided to mix it manually. In total, it was necessary to calculate about 26 cubic meters on the plate, and fill it immediately, without breaks for the night. It started at 8 a.m. and ended heroically at 11 a.m. Work hell, of course, under 70 tons to drag in four. One smoothed, carried the water (the barrel was exhausted quite quickly), two were mixed in two concrete mixers, two were driven by cars. After the flooding, we agreed to work for two weekends. The next day at lunch, I call him to see if the workers are alive. He says that the Russians yesterday after work took a whistle and are still asleep, can not get up. Well, the work act was done, forgive me.
And Tajik, I ask how?
"And the Tajiks," he replies, got up at 8 in the morning and asked not to waste time while the weekend, the neighbor's fence is placed.

They graduate from our universities, and then go to themselves and buy Oxford and Harvard diplomas.

I once read a long time ago, in the 80s or 90s, an interesting book: "Notes of a sexologist", a type of scientific-popular. Who does not remember the author, unfortunately, he presented cases from practice.

I remembered an interesting case.

The woman turned, complained that she regularly gets an orgasm on her bicycle when she makes her trips. This bothered her, because disorientation occurs during orgasm, which is ultimately dangerous during movement.

It was examined by gynecologists and other specialists, no pathologies were detected.

This sexologist began to penetrate: what a bicycle is there, maybe the clitoris rubs around the seat, etc.? to

I started experimenting on a bicycle trainer – no orgasm! In no situation.

I started to find out further: it turned out, an orgasm always occurs in a certain place of the road. She pointed to this place and the sexologist examined it: it was a descent, that is, a woman was passing it at high speed. On the sides of the road grew evenly near high topoles.

Also, the woman pointed out that the orgasm occurred mostly in sunny weather.

After comparing everything, the sexologist came to the conclusion that when a woman is driving down the slope, the sun and shadows of the topols create a flashing light for her, like the stroboscope effect.

And that light causes an orgasm.

After reading the literature, the sexologist found the appropriate pathology for this phenomenon: it must have been a tumor of the pituitary gland (a gland located in the brain).

With further investigation, his guess was confirmed.

I photographed a double room, and the hostess had a very beautiful daughter, one year older than me. At that time I didn’t use cannabis. And here, I mean, we smoked this girl, we sat in the kitchen, we played cards, we talked. Girl, it is me.

D: And I thought, why do I have all these difficulties with relationships?

I: Well yes

D: I would have a boy a year or two younger, just for sex

I: - Fuck, I have no free friends.

Five Seconds of Silence and Surprise

D: I go to sleep.



Three years later, I sit down and drink tea and I say: Fuck, that was a slander!

A man writes on the Internet about the achievements of the USSR in war, in space, in sport, and he thinks, “I didn’t have mortgage debts then.”

When my father disappeared in the evacuation in 1942, I began to have a depression, I didn’t want to live anymore. It was then that I began to take the artists of the Little Opera and Ballet Theatre with me on tour. They wanted to save me. On the third, in the terrible cold, they went to Orsk with a boy dragging behind his back the violin number eight.

We were six, I remember them all by name. There were Olga Nikolaevna Golovina, solist, Izya Rubanenko, pianist, accompanist, Boris Osipovich Geft, tenor, my guardian in the future, Kolya Sokolov and Svetlana Sheina – a couple from the ballet, adult people, honored artists. We entered a common car, I got a side shelf, which I also laid on, because we were driving at night. And immediately turned off the light in the car, and each of the adults began not to dress up, but, on the contrary, something extra to wear. Because the blankets were given us transparent.

I had nothing to wear, and the clothes I was wearing were shabby. I crashed under my blanket, and the train touched. I couldn’t warm up anyway and realized that I couldn’t warm up anymore, the car was getting colder. Night, darkness, like in some circle of hell, the dead father behind, the unknown ahead, I go somewhere no one needs. And I remember thinking how wonderful it would be to die in a dream today. He stopped resisting the cold.

I woke up in the dark because it was hot. The blanket became thick and heavy. I turned my fingers over it in the dark and found that I had only six blankets on me. Everyone who was driving with me, without speaking, hid me in the darkness with his own blanket.

Later, when I was deprived of my citizenship, I told my friends, who demanded that I be angry, that I had not yet paid for those blankets. Maybe I will never cry. Here are the five artists, my father and a bunch of other people who warm me up each in their own way – this is my country, and I owe it to it to this day.

Mstislav Rostropovich