History on 1 June. In the same week when the future King of the French Chanson, Charles Aznavour, was born, his father, a former chef of the Tsarist army, and his grandfather solemnly opened a small Russian restaurant called the "Caucasian" at Rue de Champollion, 3. According to the plan of the masters, this institution was to gather under its shadow all the colour of the Russian emigration of the first wave - those noble princes and counts, who are now forced to earn modestly on bread, turning the lamb of Paris taxis. "They drive their cars, as their servants used to drive three," sympathetically breathed the heart-hearted Misha Aznavuryan, dreaming of a glass of wine about the times when, happily placed in the cozy atmosphere of his restaurant, customers will be able to quietly enjoy the dishes of the native cuisine and happily nostalgize, remembering past times. Reality, however, has made its dark adjustments to this crystal dream. The restaurant was always crowded, but the box was empty. The reason for such a strange contradiction was the good heart of Misha Aznavuryan. Visitors to the "Caucasian" - students, artists, endless Armenian relatives and acquaintances of hosts, as well as various beggars and passers, whom in Paris in the late twentieth years was a pond - preferred to eat in credit and didn't even think to pay. "Nothing, someday all these people will come to us to pay off debts and say thank you for helping them in a difficult moment," not tired to repeat naive Misha to friends who accused him of inappropriate simplicity. In general, everything ended as it should have been: in 1930, the last of the five "Caucasian" establishments of Aznavuryanov had to be closed. A few hours before the closure, two Ethiopian students from Addis Ababa entered the hall: "We came to pay... " " Don't wait, my friends, we still don't work," Misha Aznavuryan sadly answered them. Nevertheless, the students insisted on their own and, giving the money, left - becoming, thus, the only customers of "Caucasian", who for six years of existence of the restaurant paid for debts. Since then, Charles’s father has dreamed of leaving for Ethiopia, a mysterious country where such honest people live.

And why?
Why, it is asked, the employees of the Russian embassy in the U.S. still do not feed protesters with cookies?

XXX is lucky! Not mausoleum, not theft, not vandalism, but luthering is foolish! It no longer sounds so offensive.

Where the telecast took





YYYY :

Where did the gun come from?

He fell out of the white.

xxx: I apologize very embarrassed, scratched to tears, but I wonder “why in porn movies, when partners change poses, then a man in this interval stands and shakes?”

YYY: What not to stumble on the single ones.

We have a new designer. In the dining room, please tell us what you are interested in.

He says, “Well, I like to eat quietly.”

It is symbolic that the first day of summer, June 1st, fell on Monday (a heavy day). Given what is happening in the country and the world, summer promises to be as difficult and unpredictable as spring.

© Dmitry Sviridov

The Black Customs

Part 1

Once upon a time, we had two trainees from the middle seaside. The guys were a “hurricane”: each of them was just like that student from an old sea joke:

How much is in rumble?
Here I stand alone!
Idiot, what is the course?
The second! The Baku Seawalk!

So... here the storyteller has to long and thoroughly fill the tube with scented captain tobacco. Unfortunately, I have not smoked for a long time. Many years ago I decided to smoke while bunkering a ship. So half of the crew gently poured me with foam from fire extinguishers, and from head to foot. And the other half rushed to the layers, where they prepared to immediately jump overboard at the first signs of the beginning of the explosion. After I had washed off all this foam, the captain solemnly promised me that the next time we were alive, he would feed me all the papyrus he would find on the steamboat. That same evening I tried to swallow one papyrusine for the test. All - I no longer smoke.
So... I remember where I started: let’s go back to the practitioners. Starpom, protested them and was terrified. Giving the practitioners into slavery to the Botsman, he said, “These are real hurricanes!” In the hands of them nothing but dining appliances, not to give, on the open deck not to release, but on the shore to dismiss must be, suddenly our glorious crew will be lucky, and they will be lost. "
The practitioners were not lost anywhere, and by the intensity of their negative impact on the crew and the ship, they were indeed almost comparable to a tropical hurricane. One day, after listening to my narrative about the harm of smoking and the possibilities of tobacco cooking, the practitioners decided to quit smoking urgently. To do this, they threw all their cigarette reserves out of board and took from each crew member the "honest word" that no one would give them a cigarette, no matter how they asked.
And some day after three, they burned almost the entire supply of tea on a steamboat and began to get to the ficus in the captain's cabin, not realizing that the ficus was plastic. And here we enter one of the ports of North America.

Part 2

Is this your banknote? He asked “State” and showed the court doctor a five-hundred-dollar bill.

Roscosmos was buried, two batteries were broken.

Story of a friend

I wanted Pepsi, went to the store, at 4 a.m. (thank you for the quarantine for the shattered regime), and in the entrance the grandmother on the walls with a marker writes disgraceful words about the president. She was scared, but said: Oh, you're sorry, don't tell anyone, maybe at least the repair in the entrance will be done, I'm already tired of writing applications and complaints.

A week later, the repair was done.

So it is not the vandals destroying the walls in the entrances, but the grandmothers who have lost hope.

I am a photographer, including photographing weddings. The case was in the early 2000s, when it was just beginning. I came to another wedding (bride collection) and let me think a joke, so to say, contact with humor. Then I say to the bride: So young, so beautiful. The whole life ahead. Do you need it?



(I hope for a smile and words like "You, we have love and all that") But I see in the eë eyes of slëzy. The girlfriends all blinked at me with a harsh look, and one answered: What are you doing? Weë have just calmed up!

Talk to the surgeon the next day after surgery to remove appendicitis.

I: Doctor, tell me, and the scarring will not be too big? (The question was ripe because, judging by the blood drops on the patch, the seam seemed to be cm 10)

X: Well what you wanted, in these combinations and glasses nothing is seen at all.

I :....

Xxx: How the old friend called.

Q: Do you live next to the station?

I : Yes

In fact, the boys on the bus didn’t have time to let them drink beer.

Without a problem.

He met them, invited them home, explained where to sleep, eat and wash. There was no mood to drink, the boys said, just sit down and don’t joke a lot. I found out that they were going home with ParkFesta. I explained to them that I am going to work at 6 a.m. you can eat breakfast here as a thread and hide the key here.The girl fucked her brains all night that you can sleep there when strangers bump in the kitchen. I come from work the next day, the apartment is out. Not only did they get rid of me, but they also got rid of me. They left 3 liters of beer in the cold. The most interesting thing is that we never met, I don’t even know how they called, and I didn’t even introduce myself to them.



Yyy: How can you sleep there when strangers in the kitchen



really is. I think that without me they bump somewhere, sometimes they don’t even sleep.

At the beginning of the 2000s, I went to the town hall in the village for a visit to put the wheel on a new computer.

I say, give me wood.

And he answers, is the wood axial or berry?

The herd instinct develops much faster than the collective immunity.

Profession: Master of circular seat 

In general, this story is designed to inspire those who follow what they love. Even when everyone around you says you’re an idiot and busy with hernia, and you genuinely love what you do – do it! And the rest can be offered to walk into the erotic...

and short. I loved corsets since I was a child. No, I just cheated on them! The reason was in a book. My mother was a carpenter, and she had all sorts of books about craftsmanship, the history of costume, carpentry and all that, and not just what, but expensive, heavy, with bright huge glossy images. So what’s going on in the princess’s toilet, I knew from childhood. That the dress is so lush, because under the shirt there is a huge cage - cryolyn, underneath it the pants with a bunch of rings, on the face of the barley flies. I also stuck on large photographs of stretched gloves, veers and shoes. But most of all, my imagination was aroused by the ON – the red atlas corset, which occupied the entire A4 page. Bright, overflowing, with a bunch of small lines and completely unrealistic shapes! It was a cultural and aesthetic orgasm. 

For a moment, I grew up in the 90s. Around destruction and poverty. The most popular entertainment is to collect packages of cigarettes on the streets, tear and tear from them corners, on which colored circles were printed. Whoever has the rarest colours is cool. Well, or collect the bottles, soak the labels in the log and give away. You can buy a gum.

And here is the whole hell world, where chocolate is eaten once a year, the father cries, the mother beats, in the tachta on which you sleep, there are bugs, and in the kitchen, food has to be picked from the cockroaches, he was, this red corset from the picture. In addition to his unrealistic beauty, he had another attribute. A corset can stretch the waist. From these magical books I learned clearly that in the corset the waist becomes incredibly narrow, and any girl becomes a princess 100%.

From early childhood, I had a strong diastasis due to the cyst and, as a result, a large stomach. In short, the stars have come together. This is my destiny, I have to sew the corsets!

Of course, I did not think so. Not a corset, but one. to myself. And the dream of this corset enveloped my life. I was able to sew a little, so I went this way - to make it myself. The first option was a fucking cape. Sewn out of the old shirt, it all rattled, pulled nothing and looked more like a used condom. I threw it into a distant corner and decided to never sew it again. But the ghost of the red corset was following me. I started again. In order for the corset not to rise, it had to be wrapped in the bones. I was told in the cloth shop, “Hello.” And I shaved the corset from what I found on the street - such a plastic tape for stretching pallets. It was a hassle, but progress was clear.

Then they brought Regina to the store. Who doesn't know, this is such a tape, where a thick hard lash acts as a partitional thread. It is used to give shape to products. Here is it! It's just quite a corset, and so on, no laundry, everything in the store.

So I bought Regina. If it is sewn in places, stiffness is not enough, I already understood. So you need to sew the corset out entirely! And I picked up the scarce pockets and ran to the cloth shop, buying this regilin meter by meter. Cut into strips, sewn a few pieces in the center, and opened to the edges with a veil - a part of the corset was obtained. Somewhere at this point, my shabby hobby was noticed by adults and the constant crashes began. “It’s a stupid dog! You are wasting money in vain. No one needs it. It is ugly!” And so every time I was caught for wearing my precious strips.

It took a few months to collect my miracle. The corset was not ready yet, but I wanted to try it. There is no one at home! Having sewn it from behind, I began to squeeze it on my front, rubbing the rope through the regilin with a thick needle. The edges of the regilin corset were scattered with a scarf that ruthlessly beat my skin. I sweated, blowed, pulled... and cut off. The fall vector chose on the couch, so it didn’t repel anything. She recovered, wiped out this horrible product and experienced the strongest annoyance. So much time. So much strength. And I was a loser, everyone was right.

I threw my deficiency behind the same couch and tried not to remember it anymore. I stayed there for six months, not less than before I decided to start again. I dropped the Regilin experiment from the eye, so I had to start from scratch. I did not decide to repeat everything with Regilin - too much is needed, I will save money for not one month. The collection is very laborious. Other options are needed. As a result, the method of trial and error was sewn corsets of cardboard, barbed sticks, children's aluminum constructor and even the hell knows what. Every time I started over again, my grandmother, with whom I lived at the time, said, “You are sewing your seads again! It will ruin the fabric. Give it up!” (The half of the corset, placed on the side, resembles the shape of a saddle). I broke the cloth and started again. The first successes began. Corsets can even be worn, they are awkward, but already quite yourself.

Then the bones appeared in the sale. True corset bones made of plastic, proudly named on the price list "wale mouth". It was it. The same moment. I bought a red atlas. And I pulled it, that corset. I decorated it with a cushion, as in a book. I was 14 years old. During the sewing process, I had tears and trembling knees. He is also mine! To make the rope with the louvres, it is believed to have wrapped a tool from the mother. And then... then it all went crazy. I was kicked out of school (two times!I walked in the streets. When I was 16 and I got attached to another guy, I put another corset on a whale’s upside. 

Then I left my hometown, just to get away. First I worked as a buffalo, then I tried to paint, then I got a camera and I became a photographer. Talent was, orders went, money also slowly. She pulled the old sewing machine, began to sew a little, for herself. Then the footer broke. I am in a foreign city, the house is rented, there are no savings. I cried out that I was ordering. It slowly went. I took all the orders, but mostly shew the corsets. And people pulled.

And it became surprising that the "seats", as my grandmother called them, are not only interesting to me. I even had several master classes. By the time I was 18, I had tons of corset experience and my own building system, raw but my own. Because all the nonsense that could only be made, all the mistakes and nonsense, I did everything, myself and repeatedly. And each of my failures opened my eyes to what to do so that this crash didn’t happen. In fact, I re-born the technology of sewing the corset through trials and mistakes. Why invent a bicycle? And because in the search engine on the request of the "corset" were mostly orthodontic corsets. There was no infos. There was no material. It all started from zero, in touch, in the dark.

When I decided to change the city again, I was 20 years old and I already had two shows, publications in magazines and newspapers, and even my headline on the cover.

And no, this is not a magazine with prostitutes. This is about cultural leisure, exhibitions, theatres, movies, concerts of all kinds. Interesting people in the city.

So I came to Moscow. I changed the name of my workshop from the fuzzy lady-in-corset to the French elegant Corsetier and started again. Moscow was chewing on the star the hell knows where and it took a couple of years to recruit customers. During this time, I polished my building system to the glow. Now my corsets are perfect! And no examples. I do not make a sample. Do not simply. Distance orders are flourishing.

There were problems, of course, my mental disorder was constantly putting my sticks in the wheels. At one point, I took an indefinite vacation to get myself in order. When you disappear from the radar for a long time, customers often have to collect from scratch. And I started again, raising my planka. Because it is no longer handicraft. It is almost art. Beautiful, very beautiful things. A lot of people compliment me for my work. These unnecessary things from another era proved to be in demand, relevant and fashionable. And I turn back, I see this girl with a cardboard, a hand-washing machine, a bunch of fears, and a little dream, I glide her over her head and whisper to her ear, “Don’t stop, you can!” Maybe that’s why I didn’t stop. It was from the future that I whispered my crazy ideas on my ear - "Do it again, you can do it here, and try it again." And I made mistakes, revered, despair, gave up, but always started again. So if someone tells you that you’re making a hurt, maybe it’s right now. But go all through the forest and continue, cut and spoil until it works. And then improve what came out, and with time people will gather around you who will appreciate you. Who will tell you that you are doing great. Here is.

A bad news.
It is said that by autumn the coronavirus will mutate and you will need to wash your feet.