It happened long ago when I served in the army and served as a sergeant.

The case was in September. I and a few soldiers were on the way. And here I commanded:

to stand. and calm. On the left. Behind the loops. and run. to postpone. Running... March.

The boys ran after the loops. When everything was built, I ordered to dig a tranche right at the headquarters, starting from the flagstone. And he thought of himself, “We really dig from the headquarters and until lunch.”

The boys started to dig. But I drank them: I said you don’t have to work so fast. And he himself watched the head of the company and the commander of the company intertwined and captured the "free divisions". I realized perfectly that a potato came to our military town. The car potatoes. And, accordingly, they are now looking for those who will manually unload them. And this is a few cars scattered, potatoes need to be packed in bags, bags loaded into the car. I didn’t really want my department headed by me to be sent to such work.

When he saw that the commanders had found several offices and the task was solved, he commanded:

Enter the tranche! Loops in place. Construction in the company.

Everything was built.

be equal! and calm! Do you consider me an idiot?

And he explained that if we were now caught, we would be sent to unload the potatoes for three days, three days would be free of charge. So we dug for 20 minutes, but we didn’t go for any potatoes.

Everybody arrived.

Why did he go to the headquarters? Because no one would have come to mind to ask what we are doing here. If we were to dig somewhere in the back of a military town, we could ask what is happening. And at the headquarters, no one had such a greed in mind.

The colonel thought that, the chief of staff told me to dig, the chief of staff thought of the deputy police officer, the deputy police officer of the colonel... In a word, once we dig in the headquarters, someone exactly ordered.

was familiar. We met in Sochi. He showed this to his girls. From the phone showed pictures of the type I am on the waterfalls, this is my number. Fuck the whole screen! Per photographed) girls usually scream, friend in paint, said this from personal correspondence. Diko apologized and built out of himself. Everything was laughing and positive. What is interesting. Everyone with whom he turned this number later in his room stayed for the night.

I once worked in a photography laboratory. Instead of a special machine, we had an ordinary computer, where I plugged the flash, scrolled the photos, and the client watched them. One day he brought a flash. I open the picture to the whole screen, I list. The first, the second, the third. There he is with the company, here with the girl. The guy speaks, whether to print or not. In the next photo, he puts the girl in the ass. I was red, he wasn’t. With an indignant look, he said, “This is not necessary.”

To understand a woman, it is not necessary to listen to her.

Mandarinese

Sanitary technician Ivanich was sitting in his roasted kitchen in his solitary berlog. I drank bitter. His company was made up only of red cockroaches, who felt voluptuously among unwashed plates.
Yes, life has not happened. But I dreamed of becoming a teacher of physical education, so that until old age with the boys to pursue football. The strange dream is not to be a pilot, not a sailor, but rather a bodybuilder. He dreamed of marrying his classmate Olechka, a beauty for the whole school, Olya seemed to be building his eyes, and after school went to Tbilisi.
And he what? Sleep a little, and what if you don't sleep, if you look in other people's toilets all day long and you make bottles of sludge. And all of them said to him, “Ivanishch to, Ivanishch to, get there, bring that.” Even his paternity sounds disrespectful in their speeches. No one knows that he is Sergey Ivanovich Krotov. No one knows that he had a twin brother, Dimko, who died of leukemia at the age of seven. He loved his brother, although he was very often in hospitals and hardly played with him. Dimka dreamed a lot - wanted to grow up and become a geologist. I wanted to visit the North Pole.
Drunk tears flowed on the cheeks of the alcoholic: "Oh, Dimka, it's my fault for your death, and all because of these damn mandarins. “Sorry brother...”

Sergey has long been tormented by the ridiculous and childish guilt, spiked in the heart. He remembered his poor childhood. Poor, because the brother was sick and the mother dealt with the sick son, hardly paying attention to the healthy. All the time and all the money went to Smoke. The New Year was approaching, and the father brought from work two balls of gift candy - him and Dimke. The sweets were the cheapest, ladenci, pomadka, batons, but among the sweets were two large mature mandarins. Sergey loved the mandarins.
“You eat one, and leave the other to Dimka,” said the father.
Of course Dad.
Sergey remembered how delicious, fragrant and truly sweet his mandarine was. I didn’t even notice how I ate the second one. When he realized what he had done, he was ashamed. The mandarin skin flew from the balcony.
“It should not seem that there were mandarines in the gifts,” he thought.
He was "lucky", no one remembered the mandarins, because Dimke became worse again, and he and his mother were taken to the hospital by an ambulance. And then Sergey remembered how many relatives came to them - grandparents, grandmothers, aunts, uncles.
The grandmother of Varia all told her mother that there was no place for the child at the funeral, but the mother left him next to him, and he saw himself—depleted and almost transparent in a small tomb. I saw and did not believe.

And then, after the funeral, he was hit by his head like a shoe: "Dimka would not have died if I had not stolen his mandarine."
It was a stupid thought, but it settled in the brain, turning it into a finite hooligan and ham. His conscience was bite from within, he was rude to everyone not to hear it.
A year later, the father left the family, leaving on his childhood shoulders all the burden in the form of an everlasting mother. I went all my life in a crap. Women’s hysterics, screams and tears so tired him that he decided not to start a family. And now he drinks with the cockroaches.
“Oh, brother, I would go back in time.”

Shaken and suffocating from excessive drunkenness, Sergey went out to the balcony. The city had already lit the lights, the stars were not visible. Sergey raised his eyes to the sky and almost trembled. Almost all over the width of the night sky shone a firey clock. Sergey clearly saw the numbers and two arrows - small and large - hour and minute. Sergey looked at a miracle, and the clock looked at him. Then the clock arrows suddenly moved from place and went in the opposite direction. Sergey could not take his eyes away from them, yet he felt strange. It seemed to be reducing in size, as if it was getting lighter. He looked at his hands, where were the mushrooms? His hands are like children. He stumbled, opened his eyes. He stood on the balcony of his child’s apartment and heard his mother chatting in the kitchen. I heard her voice.
“Ma-am,” Sergey whispered surprised.
His mother came out of the kitchen.
What are you noising? Smoke just fell asleep.
My mother was unhappy.
Smoke is alive? He barely stumbled, but held the scream in time. And then the key turned in the castle, and in the hallway entered the father with two bags of New Year’s candy and mandarines.
“One mandarin is eaten by yourself, the other is for Dimka,” said the father.
Sergey finally took himself into his hands and began to think clearly. He knew what to do. When his parents went to watch television, he took the mandarines out of the ball. The smell was overwhelming, he swallowed a thick piece of saliva. He took the mandarines, cleaned the skin and took the room to Dimkin. My brother moved slightly.
– Smoke, wake up, Sonja, I brought you mandarins from Africa, or maybe Georgia, I don’t know.
Sergei broke the piece and put it in his brother’s mouth.
It’s delicious, grey, you eat too.
I had eaten, I had four.
Eat more, eat more.
Do you want me to get rid of my allergies? I do not want.
“Grey, and I don’t want to go to the hospital tomorrow. Tired already.
“No matter, you’ll be treated, Dimka, and you’ll become a geologist. I read that there are whole underground plantations of self-colored flowers in the Urals. Imagine how much there is!
Dymka did the last mandarine.
“What do you think, Serega, will I be able to find some mystery in the earth if I become a geologist?
Of course, you can, just as I will train my football team.
Sergey hugged his twin brother and closed his eyes not to cry.

He woke up from a strong shock in his shoulder: "What do you throw, the shale will burn, the storm!" Sergey opened his eyes. In front of him stood a laughing wart with his eyes and a smile.
The D smoke?! to
And who else? Right from Kamchatka. Ivory brought, and crabs, and a whole druze of mountain crystal.
Sergey looked around. He was sitting on a shop in a cozy pavilion. The winter was just as pleasant. From the house came out women and two girls - his daughter, wife Olga, and the bride of Dmitry Katya. Still not believing what was happening, Sergey entered the house and looked in the mirror. It looked good: tightened, tight, youthful, as the physique is supposed to. Covers were placed on the table. Smoked ears, decorated the table with strawberries and sandwiches with ivory. Sitting at the table, Dimko put a bottle of "white" on the table.
No smoke, I don’t drink. I generally had such a nightmare dreamed of me as if I was a drunkard, torch in the kitchen with cockroaches. And as if I’m alone, and you, Dima, don’t. As if you died as a child.
You are grey? He died because I have a wonderful brother. I was sick, it is, but do you remember how you fed me mandarin? I also lied to me that the mandarins were four. I remember it all, Grey. At that time, I took my teeth for life. It was then, brother, that I realized I couldn’t just give up. Yes, by the way, you want to look at my geological finds, I have a whole backpack.
“Well, Smoke, I’ll come now, just breathe a little more fresh air.
Sergey Ivanovich Krotov raised his face to heaven. There was no figure in the sky, but Sergey said somewhere in the clouds: “Thank you for everything, great thanks...”

Lenin’s real name was Ulyanov. Stalin’s real name was Djugašvili.
The real name of Putin is Rotenberg, right?

When I was in the seventh grade in our school (in the framework of the development of democratic values) decided to hold elections of the President of the school.

In the courtroom, the smaller director announced that anyone can submit his candidacy, subject to the collection of signatures from at least 10 students. The signature collection was commissioned by the library.

After school, my boys and I went home and I proposed to create a double party and win the election. At the primary assembly of the cell of the dual party, I was nominated as a presidential candidate.

The next day, all the two-three-boys and boys with a sense of humor came to the library. So it turned out that in two weeks I collected about 40 votes, and the other candidates (they were all girls - senior classes from 6 to 9), collected from 5-8 (by the number of girls).

I thought I had won, but it was only the first stage.

Furthermore, it was uninteresting, we were given some non-public tasks such as the best poem about the school or to write a composition "how I see the work of the school president".

In the end, we were two. I and the girl are excellent from the parallel class (the favorite of all teachers, the absolute ideal of the school). In order for you to understand the level of ideal, she played snowball all the years she was in school.

A week before the elections on the main stand of the school, a seat was released for two stengazets. We (the finalists) were instructed by Monday to draw up an election program and to place stencils with agitation. In the stengazet it was necessary to indicate what grades you are studying, which groups you attend, what you are interested in and further free suggestions on how to improve life in school.

I thought for a long time what to write and eventually we and the boys painted a stengazette. When I came to school, I saw that this girl was placed.

Then I was funny, but now looking at the election campaign, I understand that the professional staff worked on it)

In the middle was written “Katia Petrova! Do you want to be an excellent? Vote for me! »

And then there were photos of her activities at school. Here Katya is the eternal snowmen, but here on September 1, Katya is ringing the eternal bell. Here is Katya at Molbert's art school, but here she plays the piano in a musician, here is Katya with a ball jumping on basketball, and here she plants trees on a sabbat.

There was a text:

My name is Katya Petrova. I am in this school from 1st grade and I am a round excellence. I am fascinated by basketball, music, painting and pearl weaving. I participate in self-activity and love nature. I was abroad in Turkey and Cyprus, and I also like to rest with my grandmother and grandfather in Kislovodsk.

Vote for me!

—————

I, of course, refrained, because Zavoch clearly said that there is a need for a PROGRAM, i.e. a list of ideas for improving life in school. And I wrote him.

On the stand was my photo and signature.

by Abram Simpson. The guarantee of respect for everyone. »

The text of the agitation was this:

My name is Abram, I am in the 7th grade in three and fourth grade. I do not go to clubs, I do boxing and sambo.

If you choose me as president of the school, I will the following results:

1st School competitions;

2nd The first school beauty contest

Three Classes of aviation modeling (as in a neighboring school);

4 is The right to study computer science for all, not just the A class;

5 is Distribute microscopes on biology on all batches, not so that the first batches are a microscope, and the rest are drawn from a textbook.

6 is Open fire exits to ensure safety. (Here I lobbied the interests of the upper classes, because they were far away from running into the smoke.)

7 is In other schools, they play volleyball / basketball, and we have been running around a circle for a year and sit while he drinks tea;

8 is The teacher objectively evaluates the ability of the students. It is impossible to peel out the bust of Apollo from the plasticine and the plasticine is bored.

9 is A call for students, not for teachers! The teacher is paid money to make a class plan, and in 7 minutes we have to have time to run to another office, drink water, eat, prepare for another lesson.

10 is It’s time to find out where the money goes for renting a dining room for weddings every weekend.

The stengazets hanged until the evening, until the man who was leaving the house saw them. There was no newspaper this morning. I was summoned to the director in the composition of “Class Leader/Zavuch/Director”, there I was long choked on the topic “how I dared to write such nonsense” and I was removed from the elections with the formulation about moral and moral discrepancy, a note in the diary and the indication “let this be a lesson for you.”

A week later, the girl who remained the only candidate made the president of the school, handed her in the acting hall a medal, a wreath and some gift.

Without elections, without votes, without everything. In fact, they just appointed a convenient and obedient candidate who will do what they will tell her for the fifth.

And you know, it was really a lesson for me all my life. I understand how elections work.

According to the results of the exit sexes, I won with a huge gap.