A whole generation of EGE victims have grown up who have no doubt that the words "stenography" and "graphiti" are synonyms.

I don’t know why, but I remember something from my youth. She was quiet, adventurous, with constant attempts to look at the world from her own angle.
After 2 courses, we, geologists, were expected to practice at the Crimean field, where in two months we had to make our first geological map. We were looking forward to the practice, because we were already on the field after 1 course. Immersion in the profession in the Crimean mountains in the summer is a fairy tale!
Before the practice, a car with cargo (instruments, equipment, etc.) was sent to the base. Usually it was ZIL-131, which quietly reached the base in a couple of days under the control of Uncle Cole's driver, who went through more than one geological expedition behind the lamb. That year, for some reason, I decided that it would be boring for him alone and more fun with me. Long before the end of May I began to handle the curator of the course, that Uncle Cole needs a partner and an assistant, alone he will be difficult and dangerous. The curator of course understood that I just very much want to travel to Crimea by car, but he did not submit and agreed. Uncle Kolya, having met me on the eve of his departure as his uninvited savior, ordered me to appear by 6 in the morning at the last bus stop on the Kashir Highway before leaving the city, to have all his things with him and not to be late!
It was only possible to get there by 6 in the morning by a taxi, which I, as a student, didn’t even think of. So I put all the things in my backpack and set out late in the evening to spend the night somewhere under the bush and be at a stop at 6 a.m. I found the stop quickly, but where to stay here is unclear. Behind the stop a long fence, on the contrary - some kind of promzone, no decent bushes. As I realized, it started to rain. Dark, wet... I went to the industrial area, found some kind of concrete fence, grown with grass, and decided that there would be my house until morning. Everything around is wet, and despite the end of May, it is cold. I am a geologist! He threw the carpet to the ground, got the polyethylene film, which he usually used in the summer instead of a tent, and hid it. It rains on the film, it’s cold, the clothes are wet, but over time it’s stuck.
I woke up from what happened to me. I open my eyes – it’s night, it’s raining, nothing can be seen, but next to me someone is breathing and my foot is standing. I ask in the dark, “What do I need?” In response, silence, then some whirling, then they lay down on me. It is hard, uncomfortable, who lies - it is not clear what needs to be - it is unclear. The first magical thought that came to my mind collided with the smell that I finally felt—no, not female perfumes. He carefully pulled his hand out of the film and quietly began to explore the space around him. The idea was not confirmed again - instead of a gentle warm skin, he felt a wet rough wool. He slipped my hand and then bitten me a little. The first thought was finally gone – the teeth were inhuman. A pragmatic touch drawn in the dark 3D model of a huge fat dog (or wolf?She lay on me, using it as a carpet. In a laying condition, she was not much smaller than me and very heavy. She was slippery to lie on wet polyethylene, she was moving all the time, trying not to drive away from me, and it was impossible to sleep in such conditions. She didn’t want to talk to me, to leave, too: I was warmer than the wet soil. And I started to warm up under it. The ambiguous decision did not come immediately, but after a few waves and attempts to agree in a good way: I partially turned out of the film, the dog lay next to me on the carpet, after which I covered the film already with her together. It smelled of wet wool, but it was somewhat pleasant, not a dog; she laid my head on my arm, on which my head was lying. I warm her back, and she warms my stomach. In a dream, she shrugged, scratched, sometimes licked my hand, but it felt like something completely strange was dreaming of her... It was still 5 o’clock in the morning, and pretty soon I finally fell asleep, warming up and even drying a little from the dog.
The alarm clock ringed at 5-30 in the morning. It was sunny, the rain stopped, but it was still raining. Next to me, stretching out all the length, there was a large black dog lying on the right side and singing, similar to a Labrador, but much larger. I knocked her in the nose and said, “Dog, I need to get up!” She opened her upper eye, looked closely at me and removed my head from my hand. I carefully got out of the film, fixed the skeleton and looked around. It was the edge of the construction site, we slept under the fence, 100 meters to the highway. The dog continued to sleep. As I pulled out the carpet underneath her, I saw that it was really a dog, 5-7 years old, completely black. Where she came from here – it is unclear, there was not even a guard house nearby. Apparently, it was her territory, and here someone stuck without permission and fell asleep... I didn’t take the film, quietly covered the dog with it. She, without opening her eyes, licked my hand, turned over to the other side and shrugged again.
After 15-20 minutes, ZIL arrived at the stop where I was sitting. Uncle Cole seemed very surprised when he saw me here this morning: “Where are you from? Why does your dog smell? Have you hugged the dogs? The entire cabin will disappear.” While I was throwing my backpack into the kung, and then as we were leaving the city, I was telling Uncle Cole about my overnight stays under the fence. He didn’t believe it, but I was wet after the rain and smelled like a black dog. Until the end of the day we went south, we talked, he remembered his expeditions, I remembered my own, but no-no, and he smelled me. Closer to the evening, before overnight, he found some advanced refuelling, where he forced me to stretch the storm in the shower complex. Before sleeping he asked, “So what kind of dog did you say was?” Black, I say, I don’t know the breed, not the special. “And the truth is black,” he thoughtfully said, twisting his black hair between his fingers, “...he has fallen from your storm.” Then he looked at me and said, “You know, I specifically scheduled a meeting at that stop because I hoped you would be late and I would go by myself. I don’t like to ride, I’m used to it. And you still had time, and even with the dog almost born. We walked, we talked, and I thought about the dog. You see, you’re not a bad guy if even the dog believes you. I know, my whole life has passed with dogs.”
We arrived safely in Crimea. Later on, Uncle Coley and I rarely crossed, although it was warm, and 10 years later it was not. And I still remember the dog who believed me and the conclusion made by the old driver. I still try to conform to him.

As it turned out, the most terrible sanction is the return to the homeland of Russian oligarchs.

I’ve been tightly on drugs a long time ago (salt fucking). There were no plans for the future of life, even the door of the entrance was not closed, so that they would not break if I died. I saw a cat beaten on the street. The back legs did not work, the teeth were broken out, the mouth was burned. I don’t know why, but I took her home. He had nothing to eat, but the cat was housed. I started caring for her. And if I could eat with my friends, I couldn’t feed my cat with them. And I frightened for her. I took care of her treatment. I even went to work because of the cat.

In all this spray, I did not notice that I have not used it for many days. He began to live as a man. Over time I met a wonderful girl who became my wife and 3 years later gave me a son. Now your favorite job, family, friends... There are problems, but they can be solved.

The cat died two years ago. I was like a wolf from this loss. She saved my life.

Peskov called the statements of the UK Foreign Ministry on sanctions against Russian oligarchs alarming.

Do you drink beer at the bar?
He is: Yes.
How many glasses a day?
He is: 3
What is the glass?
It is: 5 backs (including the teas)
How long have you started drinking?
He: 20 years ago
She: three beers a day is $450 a month, $4,400 a year. In 20 years, you have wasted $108,000
He: It looks like
She: If you kept that money in the bank, then, with interest for all these years, you could now buy a plane.
He: Do you drink beer?
She: No
He: Well, where is your bl...docked plane?

Anekdot.ru is the most reliable news source in Russia

In the 2000s there was an event:

Grandma went on mushrooms in the forest and got a good harvest of all mushrooms.

Arriving home, she prepared everything and finished preserving, moved to the basement, but after using the finished products, she stinked and died of a covid poisoning.

The relatives and friends with neighbors who came to the dining, took out of the cellar mushrooms for snacks.

4 buried, 10 in resuscitation!

The consumer basket will cease to be expensive if you add a little ammunition to the list of products of the first necessity.

At the time, the An-12 was flying with the boarding number of the USSR-11111, and the calling airfield of Salehard - "Virgo".
Flight 11111 approaches Salekhard:
Virgin, take five sticks per night.
The crew disappeared...

The political lifehack.
You are not afraid of economic sanctions if you do not have an economy.

It was 10 years ago, in one very popular electronics store in Silicon Valley (Fry's - who knows now slid). I bought some shit there for $24.99 (whether it was a flash or a cable). I am going to pay by credit. Suddenly the electricity is cut off. The management of the store begins to rush, saying the cash casinos do not work, say only cash. Okay, I get my wallet. There is a tax on the goods, and not a simple, but 8.25%. The cashier calls the manager. The manager makes a calculation. And then the circus begins:



M: 24.99 * 8.25?

I: Are you completely crazy?

M: 24.99 * 0.825?

I: Well let’s go so :-)

M: 20.62, not so can not be...

We must not multiply, but divide.

I: So let’s go!



At this time in a loud voice: "Today in the store a grand sale, discount 8.25%!"

My brother was the third child in the family. My mother brought it from the birthplace and turned it. He was long, but very thin. The eyes are round like the sows and the nose with a fifth.

We stand – I, Mom and Dad. The father looks at the son, then turns to his mother: "Something, Nadia, they get worse and worse with us every time! “”

My mother still remembers that phrase.

XXX: At the expense of the lightning ball. Probably nonsense, but in our country after a strong storm a glass in the window broke. A round hole of cm 6 in diameter with paved edges. To imagine that lightning food we could never.



YYY: Probably the AT-AT passed by and the crew fired a single shot from a turbo-laser gun, leaving a hole in the window. Apparently you are hiding in the dacha of the survivors after the cleansing of the Mandalorians, who, using the armor made of the bescar, managed to repel the shot. The Imperial Security Service has already advanced to you, do not leave the house, do not resist. Refusal to cooperate with the Empire is punished with death.



zzz: This version looks more convincing.

Sometimes after a person says, “Know me right!"He begins to carry nonsense and wild.

I will try to put two stories in one, because, as it turned out, they are very closely intertwined and influenced the life and worldview of two generations. And the third - (I) got out in the background, I try to tell you.
When we moved to live in a house and joyfully digged in the garden, Dad (namely, he initiated the move from apartment to house) never took a spade in his hands. When we tried to call him, we heard the same story: I already accumulated my own, my parents have a huge garden, only under the potatoes more than 20 acres, and plant more and more. First we plant, dye, gather bushes, collect potatoes, store (there were several warehouses), then we pick up until the moisture. In the end, most of it is thrown away. And then everything is new! Martyshkin's work, and why all this, but the father can't convince. Sage and all.
To some extent, I’ve heard this story. Usually after a trip to the village to his father, he observed the fact: the garden became larger. His two brothers were also surprised by this, but the older one pulled in and went to hunt the garden, perceiving it as a fresh air loading.
The second story is about Grandpa. To understand his life: in 1940 he went to the army. Soon the war began. But since he was a vision disabled from childhood, he was not sent to the front. They made him glasses with a lens thick in a centimeter (with them he went through his whole life) and sent to the Uralmash factory in Sverdlovsk. In Uralmache he eventually worked until his retirement. During the war, the factory made tanks. The shifts were up to 18 hours a day, sleeping right at the machines on wooden boxes. Moreover, the workshop did not stop the work, did not pay attention to the noise, just fell out of fatigue and hunger, so as not to waste energy on the way home. There was hunger from the very beginning and until the end of the war, grandfather almost died of hunger, and once after receiving a package of food from relatives from the village, he got a bowel wrench. He went to the hospital, there was lucky - healed and fed a little better.After the war with his wife built a house on the edge of geography, far beyond the city in a village near the swamps. Nearby lived relatives with whom he and his wife lived during the construction of the house: they themselves cut the bars and dragged on themselves. There was nothing, it was hungry and heavy. Then three sons were born, one of whom was my father.
All these stories I have heard, compared and thought many times. I remembered my grandfather, we communicated little, but from all this communication and all the information about him in general, I came up with the following: he was absolutely normal, if not counting the hobby of the garden. Therefore, somehow these words did not fit in the head. But the warehouses under the food I saw myself, including two practically in the forest.
Grandfather was gone and once dad again began to remember him and the garden: - Yes, you can live a whole year on the harvest, and in the spring everything was rotten and thrown away.
Here my puzzle began to fold. But to check the guesses, I began to clarify: and when did grandfather first start to increase the garden?
When my older brother went to town, he got married. And we are crawling here, we are crawling even more.
And then then?
And then when my second brother got married and left, I left alone for everyone. And then when my first niece was born...I understood everything!
War and famine affected my grandfather. Apparently, in order to be prepared for everything, he calculated how many foods a person needs to live a year and stockpiled. With the birth of a new member of the family, the reserves increased proportionally. He didn’t explain anything to anyone, just silently did something that could save the lives of his children, grandchildren and grandchildren, suddenly a war or disaster.
We uncovered the mystery of the garden, sad that it was so late.

The son brought his future wife to meet his mother for the first time. Everyone was silent for a long time, and the grandmother spoke first:
Enzo for not praying.

At a student party, a guy looked at me. He looked very carefully. I shot through the crowd. He shot too.

He “unexpectedly” came near and also suddenly said, “I’m married. A great party!” The man talked.

I fell into a precipitation. I am 17. I want love. He has 25 in sight. Of course he is married. Who will leave such a treasure alone? I, deciding not to go into the details of his marital life, just evaporated in the student crowd. I didn’t need those problems. Yes, and the married guy understood my hint immediately too. It evaporated, as it appeared... a flag in your hands, a drum on your neck, as they say.

A few weeks later, I learned that his name was Janet. The name is Kazakh.