I have a companion. With a difficult destiny. Taxi for a while. A couple of times I went with him in some affairs, and noticed that on the shelf under the barracks (there are such, open, on the Vasovsky "seven" seems) lies with him Tomik E. Blavatsky. Such a thick, with a beautiful throwing strap. Surprisingly, it lies on top and is not overwhelmed by different ones. Lie for a long time. A few months. And my companion is a man purely grounded, practical, never "esoteric" (well in the sense that all kinds of searches there for Great Teachers and no less Great Goals are not his, of course). And here, you are Blavatsky!
On the other hand, the alien soul is dark. I was interested. Be careful, Kiev on Tomic:
Does it help time pass?
“No,” he said, “I have time to give. It helps to get earned.
In none of the schemes that revolve in the head and related to "getting earned" Tomik Blavatskaya did not fit in any side. Comrade, seeing my confusion, smiles:
- You know, there are sometimes such... luck that do not want to pay. “Oh, brother, I forgot the money, then...” Or the fingers start to shake, “Do you know who I am?” This is where Blavatsky helps.
Is it how? I was completely confused.
- Well, how, I lean, I take the tomic and without scope but from the heart to the fucking of it, to the fucking! And, you won’t believe, immediately the money is there, and the fingers stop swinging. Elena Petrovna helps sometimes.
-------
I recently drove a taxi in another city. I see, too, Tomic is on the shelf. The same gaps. and only (!!!) The Anglo-French dictionary And the taxi driver, which is typical, the Southern is obvious, but neither from the south of France, Central Asia is unambiguous.

These taxis are taxis!!! to

Following the fall in vegetable prices, the European Union the successful implementation of its other initiatives: increasing the light day by summer and warming the sea by the holiday season.

Interesting psychology.
Did you know that introverts are much better at hiding than extroverts?

38 years ago, at the International Film Festival in Denmark, the first place was taken by the Soviet cartoon "A dog lived". And in 2012 at the Suzdal Festival of animated film this cartoon was recognized as the best of the last 100 years. On it grew up more than one generation of children, and the phrases of Dog and Wolf have long become winged. Many interesting moments remained behind the frame: viewers are unlikely to know that in the first version of the cartoon the wolf looked quite different, and the name did not miss the censorship.
The fairy tale "Sirko" the future cartoonist Eduard Nazarov read as a child, and 30 years later it again fell into his hands. At that time he was an artist at the All-Union animation studio "Sojuzmultfilm". He later told me:
At first glance, the story is completely unnoticeable. It is very short, only 15 lines. But there was only one expression: “I’m singing!” and I got caught up with it. I began to think about what life the wolf had, what the dog had when they were young... Well, and so things gradually unfolded.”
The preparation process was very serious and long. In the 1970s. Nazarov frequently visited his army friend in the small Ukrainian town of Tsurupinsk, which then resembled a large village. According to the director, the "mood and smell", which created the unique atmosphere in the cartoon, came from there. And to create drawings of clothes, household appliances, dishes and other important little things, Nazarov went to ethnographic museums, including the famous Pirogov.
The final strike in creating the atmosphere and colour of the Ukrainian village was music, which the director made at the Institute of Folklore and Ethnography of the Academy of Sciences of the USSR. Employees gave Nazarov a magnetophone coil with recordings of Ukrainian songs collected by ethnographs in the villages. The song "Oh there, on the mountain", which sounded in the cartoon, probably everyone remembers. But few people know about what it sounds like in the performance of the folklore collective "Tree". At the same time, its participants did not even suspect that this song was chosen for the cartoon, and that soon their voices will be heard by the whole Union.
One of the participants of the “Drevo” group, Nadezhda Rozdabar, said: “Even in 1958, the folklore collector Vladimir Matvijenko came to us from the Kiev Conservatory. We gathered in a local club with young families: I and my husband, Fedor, Zagorulki, Malyshenki. Under the guidance of Galina Popko, several songs were sung. Matvienko listened, and two years later he touched us again. From that moment on, we officially started acting as a collective.”
In 1982, they recorded 24 songs at the recording studio "Melody", and in the same year came out the cartoon "A dog lived", in which this composition sounded, which became a complete surprise for the participants of the musical team.
Initially, the timing of the film was 15 minutes. However, the material had to be reduced - due to disagreements with the head of the studio "Sojuzmultfilm" the director had to cut several scenes: "I wanted the story to be clearly told, but in the end, some things turned out to be short-talk. For example, a scene where a wolf and a dog are sitting on a mountain and crawling to the moon would like to be made longer. In general, a lot of things could be extended purely psychologically.” The original title of the animated film was changed - "Life of a Dog". It seemed too suspicious to the management – what does the author hint?
The appearance of the wolf has changed. Initially it was planned that he would be voiced by the famous actor Mikhail Ulyanov, but he at the time was busy shooting and refused. Then invited Armene Jigarhanyan, but here it turned out that the appearance of the character disharmonizes with his voice. The wolf had to be repaired. As a result, Wolf turned out to be so similar to Jigarhanyan that Nazarov even began to worry:
“When Jigarhanyan first entered the tone studio, sketches of the main characters were laid out on the piano. I see the dull Armene Borisovich – well, the real Gorbatchay from “The Meeting Place cannot be changed!” He approached the piano and looked at the same wolf I painted. I thought that Jigarhanyan would now offend and kill me. But he looked and cried, “What, nothing. A good wolf. Let us work!”
The dog was voiced by Georgy Burkov, who then again worked together with Jigarhanyan on the soundtrack of the cartoon "The Adventures of the Pig Funtik".
The premiere of the cartoon in 1982 produced a real furor. A year later, it was evaluated in Denmark, Poland, Yugoslavia and Australia. "A dog has lived" is still not losing its popularity among children and adults. When the director was asked what he sees as the secret of such a popularity of the cartoon, he replied:
“Cinema is madness. For yourself, write pictures or communicate using the computer. And when making a movie, you have to think that the viewer doesn’t fall asleep on your movie.”

After a lecture for HR specialists, one of the listeners asks the speaker:
Interviews take a lot of time. Tell me, how can you as quickly as possible determine which person in front of you is an idiot or a normal?
of course. Ask him a simple question. For example: "It is known that Cook made three trips, during one of which he died. During what exactly?”
Can you give another example? I had a bad time with geography at school.

Xxx: I drove a long time ago in the tram late in the evening.

The conductor (woman) and the driver (man) were arguing about something through the door of the cabin for a while. After this, the conductor forcefully blocked the door and the evil went to collect passengers who entered during the dispute.

And then the driver in the microphone says: People forgive me. I love you very much!

The eyes of the conductor with tears of happiness and smiling such a kindness of passengers I still remember.

Let the years go peacefully, and the wicked go by.

And who is this Valery Kosolapov, why should I write about him, and you read? Valery Kosolapov for one night became a righteous man, and if he did not, we would not have known the poem of Yevtushenko "Baby Yar". Kosolapov was then the editor of the "Literary newspaper", which published this poem on September 19, 1961. It was a real civil feat.
After all, Yevtushenko himself admitted that these poems were easier to write than to print at the time. The history of writing is related to the fact that the young poet met with the young writer Anatoly Kuznetsov, who told Yevtushenko about Baba Yar. Yevtushenko asked Kuznetsov to take him to the woods, and was completely shocked by what he saw.
“I knew there was no monument there, but I expected to see some memorial or some well-maintained place. And suddenly I saw the most ordinary garbage, which was turned into such a sandwich of stinking garbage. And this is in the place where tens of thousands of innocent people, children, old people, women, lay on the ground. In front of our eyes, trucks came in and dropped to the place where these victims were lying, new and new bunches of garbage,” Yevtushenko said.
He asked Kuznetsov, why a sinister conspiracy of silence around this place? Kuznetsov replied because 70 percent of the people who participated in these atrocities were Ukrainian police officers who cooperated with the Nazis, and the Germans provided them with all the darkest work of killing innocent Jews.
Yevtushenko was simply shocked, as he said, so "shamed" of what was seen, that in one night he composed his Poem, and that night he was definitely a righteous man. In the morning he was visited by several poets headed by Korotych, and he read them new poems, then he called some... someone "stuck" the Kiev authorities, and the concert Yevtushenko wanted to cancel. But he did not give up and threatened a scandal. And that evening, for the first time, “Baby Yar” sounded in the hall.
“There was a minute of silence, and I thought that silence was endless. There, a little old lady came out of the hall, shrinking, relying on a stick, slowly passed through the scene to me. She said that she was in Baba Yar, she was one of the few who managed to scatter through the dead bodies. She worshipped me with earthly worship and kissed my hand. I have never been kissed by anyone in my life,” Yevtushenko said.
Then Yevtushenko went to the “Literary newspaper”. Its editor was Valery Kosolapov, who replaced Twardovsky himself in this post. Kosolapov was heard as a very decent and liberal man, naturally within certain limits. His partner ticket was with him, otherwise he would never have been in the chair of the glove.
Kosolapov read the poems directly under Yevtushenko and with the arrangement immediately said that the poems are very strong and necessary.
What will we do with them? Cossack was thinking out loud.
How what? I pretended I didn’t understand Yushchenko. to print.
Yevtushenko knew very well that when they said “strong poems”, they immediately added, “but you can’t print them now.” But Kosolapov looked at Yevtushenko sadly and even with some tenderness. As if it was not his decision.
and yes. He thought and then said, “Well, you’ll have to wait, sit in the hallway. I have to call my wife. I asked, why should I call this woman? He says it must be a family decision. I wonder why family? I will be fired from this post when it is printed. I need to consult her. Go and wait. In the meantime, we will go to the set.
Kosolapov knew he would be fired. This is not just the loss of a job. This meant loss of status, falling out of the nomenclature. Deprivation of privileges, payments, travel to prestigious sanatoriums.
Yevtushenko was worried. He sat in the corridor and waited. The wait was long, and it was unbearable. The poem immediately broke up in editorial and printing. He was approached by simple working printing, congratulated, shrugged his hand. An old recruiter arrived. “He brought me a slice of vodka, and a salty cucumbers with a piece of blackheads. The old man said, “Hold on, you hold on, they’ll print, you’ll see.”
And then Kosolapov’s wife came and locked up with him in his office for almost an hour. She was a big woman. On the front she was a sanitary, many took on her shoulders from the battlefield. And here this grenader goes out and approaches Yevtushenko: "I't say that she was crying, but a little bit of her eyes were on a wet spot. He looks at me studying and smiles. And he says, “Don’t worry, Zhenya, we decided to be fired.”
Listen, it is just beautiful. It is strong: “We decided to be fired.” It was almost a heroic act. Only the woman who walked on the front under bullets could not be afraid.
Problems started in the morning. They came from the Central Committee and shouted, “Who missed, who drank?” but it was already late – the newspaper was sold in kiosks.
“During the week, thousands and tens of letters, telegrams and radiograms even came from ships. The poem spread like lightning. He was transmitted by phone. There were no faxes. Called, read and recorded. I even got a call from Kamchatka. I asked how you read it, because the newspaper has not reached you yet. No, they say, we were read by phone, we recorded from hearing,” Yevtushenko said.
At the top of course they were avenged. Articles were organized against Yevtushenko. Cosworth was fired.
Yevtushenko saved the reaction in the world. Over the course of a week, the poem was translated into 72 languages and printed on the front lines of all major newspapers, including American. Within a short period of time, Yevtushenko received 10,000 letters from different corners of the world. And of course, not only Jews wrote letters of thanks. Not just the Jews. The poem captured many. There were also a lot of hostile actions. He was scratched the word "J" on the car and threatened.
“Great, basketball-growth guys from the university came to me. They volunteered to protect me, although there were no attacks. But they could be. They were sleeping on the staircase cage, my mother saw them. So people supported me very much, Evtushchenko recalled. And the most important miracle, called Dmitry Dmitrievich Shostakovich. My wife and I didn’t believe it at first, we thought it was a kind of hooligan calling, playing us. He asked me if I would give permission to write music for my poem.”
This story has a good ending. Kosolapov so decently accepted his dismissal that the party conspiracy was frightened. They thought he was so calm that someone was probably behind him. And after some time he was returned and put in charge of the magazine "New World". “And there was only a conscience behind him,” Yevtushenko summed up. It was a man.
by Vadim Malev

The shoes that breathe in the rain are also drinking.

They went to the village (there is a friend's house), drunk, of course, in the mess. And here, when I was already thinking badly, someone from the local got a steak box with some grass/tobacco inside. He offered me. Without long thinking, I took one and ate. It was later explained to me that it was necessary for a moment to hold this green piece behind my lips and then spit that wild in the ashes, and then I didn’t know – and brutally paid. Overall, in a moment I felt something terrible started happening in my stomach: as if a volcano started erupting right inside of me! And at the same time, the information from the sensors on the valves went to the brain: the ass just started to break, and a nauseous bump drove to the throat. When I realized that I wasn’t an interlocutor anymore, I decided to go where my problems could be solved. But fucking, it’s a village, a sorter on the street, and I’m in a strange house and I don’t even know where the door is! Pulling my mouth with one hand and bulky with the other, I ran into the darkness of the hallway and saw the light at the end of the tunnel, it looked like an exit. At this point, the rear valve got very bad, I realized that the count was going for seconds and ran into the pleasant moonlight doorway. Running out to the doorstep I realized that... there is no wing, but there is a small slope, which I have already jumped through by inertia and dumbly fall down. Since I clamped the technological holes in my hands, I fell down like in a cartoon - plasma, fucking down. And then the terrible thing happened: the valve broke from the blow and I, blatantly, exploded - began to fight fiercely and blatantly at the same time. I licked in two streams, like from a projectile-thrown water pipeline! It was terrible, but I couldn’t do anything. All I had in mind was to run to the sorting, so I, continuing to blame and blame, got up and ran in the direction where he should have been in my opinion. I made a mistake and stumbled into the wool. He ran to the other side, and there was a chicken. It was at this moment that my disappearance was discovered and the owners of the house looked out the window, where a terrible picture appeared to their eyes: a guest from Moscow, taking off his pants, ran there and there along their site, blurring and squeezing everything on his way. This chewing stops only when there is no liquid left in the body except blood. Then I just fell and crashed. The area could no longer be saved. I even managed to get into a chicken. I think that time I lost five pounds in a couple of minutes.

For some reason, I was not invited to the village anymore.

It would be interesting to know if the wife asked Socrates the question, "Am I not fat?“And what did he answer to him?

Electricity is delayed for 20 minutes, on the platform all frozen and angry, after work, I want to go home, we wait.
No one announces when the train will arrive, like waiting for information.
Finally, the electric car arrives, everyone is loaded, sitting crowded, waiting for departure.
And then a ruby guy with a cake tied up with a tape enters the car and screams at the phone:
“You can imagine, today is the most fantastic day in my life! I ran out of inertia, in despair, I was terribly late! She is standing, waiting for me. I am going! I get to you! Ura is?“?”
And we all smiled, relaxed, as if we were all specifically waiting on the perron for him to get to her with his cake. Let’s go, let’s smile, let’s make a cake.

Russian athletes took at this Olympics 1 gold more than in the past. Germany is 9 fewer than the previous year.

German media outlets about a conspiracy against Germany? No is.

Is Germany getting hysterical? No is.

Are the Bundestag deputies craving? No is.

It is surprising, right?

The people who kill,

Officials are richer.

This story is often remembered in our family.
Before the war, my grandfather had a stomach ulcer. The hospital was in the neighborhood, and his best friend, on a spring break, dragged his dying grandfather on his sandwiches all night long, saying:
Hold on, my friend, hold on!
I didn’t believe I would bring him alive. The ulcer turned out to be perforated, peritonitis began, the operation was long, heavy, but a miracle happened, the grandfather survived. When the war began, he was not taken to the front because of his disability.
Grandpa and Grandpa had four children. One boy died of typhus in the autumn of 1941. And in the winter, two three-year-old twin girls, Lenochka and Raechka, swelled from hunger and slept.
In the family there was a favorite cat Vaska. He properly caught mice and placed them on the threshold of the masters - it was that it was not a darmood. And at night he went to bed with the girls, lay between them, murmured and heated them with his warmth. The girls from weakness could not even raise thin, like fireworks, pins to lick the cat.
And then came the terrible day when one of the little girls, Raečka, died. My grandmother cried and cursed the war. The cat got stuck in the corner, realizing that something terrible had happened. In the morning, he brought a piece of black bread into the house and laid it in front of his grandmother: “Here is my prey.” The grandmother did not believe her eyes, and the cat shrugged at her feet, as if comforting her.
The grandmother mixed the bread in boiling water and fed the little daughter. By the evening, Lenochka smiled and was able to chew the cat with a weakened hand. The next day, the cat pulled the tail from the silk. My grandmother cried, praising him. She cooked a fish bouillon.
On the third day, the cat did not come home. He stole food from the German kitchen. They pursued him and asked for a row from the machine. The wounded cat was tied to a pillar and hanged a “PARTISAN” sign. They expelled all the inhabitants and warned that this would be the case with anyone who dared to bring food to the partisans.
But it turned out that Vaska was not shot, but only wounded. At night, slightly alive, Vaska somehow freed himself and came home. And the grandfather, in fear of death, hid it in a basket under the floor. For a week my grandfather tried to get out of the feeder. She whispered to the cat’s ear:
“If I survived, you will hesitate, cats have seven lives, hold on to a friend, hold on to a friend, the partisans don’t give up.
The wounds were severe and the cat did not survive. His grandfather buried Vaska outside the house.
This is how an ordinary village cat saved a little girl from starving death. It was my mother.
Olesya Afonskaya

At the table with 20 cakes are sitting a member of parliament, a worker and an immigrant. A member of the parliament eats 19 cakes and then says:
“Workers, be careful, an immigrant wants to take away your cake!

xxx: Today at work, a colleague told a sad story about how he bought a blueberry because he wanted to, and his unemployed wife and a retired aunt were drinking him all night for waste, because the time is right for the mortgage payment.

“Thanks to the bleach, I’ve clearly seen what kind of witches I live with under the same roof,” he said sadly pulling a cigarette.

I have a problem, not only with the absence of a girlfriend, but also with the absence of friends.

At the same time, I myself regularly reflect, analyze my behavior, and do not demand anything from others, but all my interest revolves around comp (series, movies, games) and online communication with a couple of people and here, on Picaba.

At the same time, in my life, as I say in vacancies, an active life position, I develop regularly at work, change positions, I also go to the gym. But outside of the house, I’m not interested in anything.

I try to meet girls on dating sites, but somehow everything fails.

Now came the thought: maybe try to create some information hunger? Per, refusing to communicate on the Internet (for example, here) will give some internal impetus and I will figure out where exactly I want to compensate for the lack of communication.



YYY: Of course, turn off the computer. right now. Look in the closet, there is probably a decent shirt or fashionable shirt. Wash, hair and go out! Directly to the beer store. Take the stock to four liters for the price of three. Then, go to the King burger and take a double Vopper with cheese, Stack House or Baconizer, potatoes and cheese sauce. Then go home and sit down at the computer. Drink a cool beer, eat hot hamburgers, and watch funny videos on YouTube or a series. To the fuck of these friends and babs))



Zzzz: Well finally normal, fucking advice!

The change of power is not a toast, but an article.

I met a nice young Russian couple in Egypt. Together we went to the dining room, bathed together and went on excursions. An Egyptian staff member greeted us:
Rousseau is a tourist. A form of morality!
A form of immorality? I don’t understand the businessman’s wife. I looked at my husband and he shrugged his shoulders.
And I realized that for the first time in my life I met adult Russians who did not watch Diamond Hand.