Where we are not.
In 1990, the capital of sunny Ethiopia - the city of Addis Ababa. At the time, there were about a million inhabitants, including a couple of dozen Soviet diplomats and several hundred Soviet military advisers and members of their families.
To say that diplomats disliked the military would probably be an exaggeration. Rather, it was some arrogant contempt of the aristocrat who discovered a Roma camp near his mansion. Families of military personnel, accustomed to the joyous conditions of life in remote garrisons, calmly perceived such "discomforts", as life in the midst of slums, the absence of a personal car or one TV on the whole apartment residential house, and that shows only one channel four hours a day. The ambassadors lived better, and their supplies were better. In short, in order not to confuse the minds of the holograms who were unstable from a sudden departure abroad, military personnel and members of their families were prohibited from visiting the territory of the embassy (except for children attending the embassy school). The argument was simple: “Officially you are not here.”
I must say that in a sense they were right. Officially, the only Soviet soldier on the territory of the People’s Democratic Republic of Ethiopia was a Soviet military attache, who was permanently in the territory of the same embassy. The rest were officially Cubans. His father, like all other military advisors, carried the Cuban military uniform without distinction. Passports were collected from everyone after crossing the border, and were issued back only when returning to the homeland. Well, for us, it was a puppy: many of us were not officially there then, and now too.
One day there was a significant meeting. We met a colonel from our house and either the second or third secretary of the embassy (he knows who he was, I know only that his wife, the worst aunt, was our English teacher). They met their cars. Military UAZik met with Ambassador Zhygulenko.
Here we need to stop on the cars a little more detailed. The Ambassador's car was an export "seven" snow-white color. Not a stranger, of course, but almost the dream of any Soviet man. A month from the union. The fellow diplomat himself lovingly struck her in the morning, as we drove from the school bus to the school building.
And UAZIK... well what to say, was abandoned in Ethiopia for at least 10 years before my arrival, and how much he had previously wheeled through the vastness of our vast homeland – only God knows. All beaten, all slapped. The roof was made of woven insulate, since the breeze has long broken down in the conditions of African climate (or maybe, and before that broke down, nobody knows).
And here these two loneliness met right in front of our house. Colonel UAZik decided to cross the opposite strip and go to the courtyard, the Ambassador Zhygulenko did not like it and he went to the tarantula. The result: a broken mouth of Zhygule and a messy side of the goat. The cars disappeared after a while. Gigi, of course, under the magazine. UAZik on the weekend the men leveled with a kiwi, painted - and it became in some way even better than before the accident. But then began the entertainment in the form of ambassador’s attempts to obtain compensation from the military.
Whoever had the misfortune to get into an accident involving a military car, he is aware - even inside the Motherland to get some compensation at the same time is almost impossible. But the diplomats were persistent, reminding about their demands almost every week, every time appealing to an increasingly high-ranking rank. Until, finally, at the reception on the occasion of some of the holidays (such as it was on November 7th) to the chief military adviser who was present at this reception (I don't remember the name for years) did not approach the same victim and did not start the old song about the fact that it would be good to get new Zyguli in exchange for the murdered old ones. On which, according to the testimony of individual comrades, he received from the comrade general the answer of approximately the following content:
You have always said that there are no Soviet soldiers in Ethiopia. On what grounds do you then try to demand compensation from the Ministry of Defense of the USSR? As you said before, the Cubans are here? Go to the Cuban Embassy!
The next stage of tolerance:
We must forbid the wise to think, so as not to insult the feelings of the foolish.
If you can’t buy something twice, you can’t afford it.
I have my own smartphone sales department. I figured out how to distribute leaflets on the street and I needed someone to distribute them. And here just her niece was drawing, she needed a job, why not. He gave her leaflets, showed her a place to distribute. Traffic is good and I can see everything from the window.
Well, I sit at work, I look out the window, and I don’t see people with leaflets. I went out, I looked and there was no niece. I stood for five minutes and never saw her. Half an hour later, no one came out. After two hours, I painted. I ask where was it? She replies that she went to another street and distributed there - in the neighboring neighborhood. I ask why? If my shop is here, did you distribute it there? I did not hear a reasonable answer. (Probably just fucking where she just threw out the leaflets, insulting) gave her money on the road and sent home. Fuck those workers.
Time has passed and I’ve found good launches that do their job and are always in sight. Clients come (although I’ve always thought leaflets are nonsense, but it doesn’t turn out)
And then again I painted my relative in the face of my niece with the request to get to work. I polently refused. I say there is no work. I found people. I got a very interesting answer: Yes, you fired a man and took me in their place!
P.s I did not dismiss anyone.
I was 16 or 17. My parents are not religious people, but believers. And then they decided that I had enough shit to create, and it would be time for me to go to church for confession. I had a negative attitude to this idea, for I had already doubted the existence of any divine entities at that moment (I had actually doubted, not started to deny it), and the mechanics itself, when you first do nonsense, and then, in fact, just apologize and automatically consider yourself forgiven, raised certain questions in me. For some time I managed to avoid this procedure, but at some point one of the religious holidays came, and I was forced to go to the temple with the rest of the family. And now my confession begins. I expect, without any particular enthusiasm, to start listing where I’ve crushed. Father, when he noticed this, asked me what was wrong. And I’ve always been a man, or a little more stupid than I should, or a little more stupid. Well, because of these qualities I replied, that said, I am not sure that this whole cult makes sense, and in general, uncle, what are you doing here. I was a little overwhelmed at that moment. The reaction of the priest surprised me. He, after thinking for a while, replied that I was probably right, because he himself cannot assert with absolute certainty that God exists, because he personally did not observe any evidence. Nevertheless, according to him, religion still brings practical benefits, being a kind of psychological help in certain situations. As a result, after a short conversation, we agreed that since I feel well without faith, I do not need a confession, but when it comes to the feasibility - the hell knows him, who needs to be worshipped, and who does not need - not. Such a breakdown of the pattern has not happened to me before. A great man.
and Taxi. Order has arrived. There are three Chinese. Take to the sauna from the hypermarket "Lenta". Here for a couple stops to the end point one of them asks to stop and goes out, well I think okay, can go where I need, I went on. I don’t have time to complete the order, a new one arrives, from the point where I landed that Chinese. I take, bring these two to the sauna, go back and pick up the one I landed and go back to the tape (as it turned out, they forgot the package with the products in the tape). They came to the tape, the Chinese came out, I stood and waited for the next order. The order arrives and goes out... right, the Chinese I brought here. He sits down and with his eyes open and his firm accent asks:
You are alone in the city, right?
I was sitting in the bus, in front of me was a woman aged 60-65. The dress was in a bright jacket and shoes. I thought it was a girl and decided to give up the seat, said, "girl, sit down" I turned to her and realized I was wrong. She was delighted, she shone.
All sitting with a wide smile. When she came out, she jumped out like a young girl.
A 20-year-old girl wakes up.
I bought my wife new boots. Good shoes from a well-known company. Upon returning home, my beloved decided to try the update and paint in it. Wearing her left shoe, she turns to the only critic nearby (to me, that is to say): "Well, what do you think of my new shoes?" Being, like all men, a purely rational being and wishing to evaluate the slim legs of the spouse in the complex, rather than in the form of a combination (shoe on the left leg and shoe on the right), I answer: "Pymer second shoe, please." I turn around and in a few seconds I hear a voice from behind my back: “Well, what about my new boots?” I turn around, there... The woman wore the right boots, but the left one, the left one, took off!
xxx: I will tell you this for the nutella: I have a kilogram bank going away faster than 350 or 630 gram. Is this how it works?
yyy: Probably into a kilogram head, and from a smaller bowl with a spoonful?
and allo.
Is that Takayevich?
Yes, I listen to you.
- You are called from the support service "Sberbank", transferred 6 minutes ago a transfer of the amount of 14 000 rubles?
Yes of course.
- The translation was made in the name of Sergeev Vladimir Nikolaevich?
Yes, it is absolutely true.
What is your relationship with Vladimir Nikolaevich?
We are sexual partners.
Jokes of jokes.
What a joke, we have love.
“Of course, we inform you that Vladimir Nikolaevich is on our blacklist.
Yes, I know, in addition, he is in international search.
We inform you that in 2 minutes your account will be blocked and you will be prosecuted.
Thank you very much.
Hanged the phone.
I have not had a Sberbank card for two years, on zero accounts.
In my eyes, two 6-year-old boys are crossing on a trail: one on a self-driving car, the other on a machine. The one on the selfie shouted, “Hello, let’s make friends! The second walked around and shouted, “I have no time! “” and pointed
I just want to know why the coat clings to the door pin only when I’m in a bad mood.
The door is trying to embrace you.
If you are surrounded by goats and lambs, is it time to get out of the bread?
Every time I hear Igor Cornelyk’s song “There is a ballet ticket, there is no tram ticket,” I remember a ballet trip in Düsseldorf. My wife and I visited a daughter who was working on a work visa. Once the cultural program of the visit included a visit to the local theatre, where a touring ballet group performed. So we go to the ballet! On the train!! And my daughter warns us not to buy tickets!!! “How so,” we are surprised, knowing that the daughter’s unlawful behavior is not characteristic. “We have tickets to the theater, and the public transportation is free,” the daughter explains. “What connection?” – we still wonder. “Everything is very simple and logical,” says the daughter, who seems to have already begun to break away from her native soil. “If everyone goes to the theater in their cars, there will be traffic jams, and there will be not enough parking. Therefore, the municipality and encourages people to travel by public transport.” In principle, it is clear that for the city authorities, the convenience of people is much more important than parking fees and fines. Could it be something else? “I have a ballet ticket.”
What is the power of electricity?
It is when there is no mind, but there is power.
I bring my daughter to kindergarten. We talk.
Dad, let’s talk to you?
Go to)
What do you want me to be when I grow up?
I want you to grow up to be a good person.
Am I talking about the profession?
Your daughter decides. I want the job to be fun and it was interesting to do it.
I chose this profession, but I don’t know how it’s called.
Tell me, I am curious ?
I want to work in the aquapark. I come in the morning, I come from the hill and if the hill liked, I allow to ride on it. And I go home. And so every day.
Do you want to sell ice cream?
No, in the summer they normally buy, and in the winter who needs it? I need stability.
Well, normal work, I like it ?
I remembered the story with my wife. Once a long time ago she worked in a office store, she liked everything, she always talked about the work with interest. And to see vanity, work with customers, with the product laid its footprint. And because she sometimes talks in her dreams at night, the conversation about the office did not make herself wait long.
by @$ “B” is 34. 20 rubles of rubles.
“Oppa, I got it!” I thought I.
Is it an office store?
Yes, yes... Hello...
I: What do you have?
A ruble of 20 rubles.
I: And what more?
The pencil... the pencil... the pencil... the pencil. Chapter 34: The Laws.
I: Do you have notes in a circle?
No... No... No... No... No.
And in the triangle?
I thought again... no.
I: Is there a globe of Ukraine?
And again, no... no.
I: Well, what do you have then?
A book of twenty rubles!
I couldn’t ask any more ? ?
[ +
34
- ]
[3 ]
14.08.2019
Letter from a soldier of emergency service.
There is a belief that in the army, brom is poured into tea to reduce sexual desire. So for the first two weeks I was afraid that brom was added to the tea and did not drink it. And in the third week, he started drinking and hoping that he would still be added.
I never buy a shaurma in bushes, I do it at home, it turns out to be real, even a couple of times poisoned...
What amazes the Japanese in Europeans is their ability to handle such uncomfortable items as a spoonful and a fork.