by Vasya Sidorova

Well well well. Not in every class. Well, at least in one of the “A”, “B”, “B”, “G” in each Soviet school was his Vasya Sidorov. An empty, stubborn look. In the children's room of the police. Take the little thing from the child. and so on. The whole set. The school dreamed when Vasya finished eighth grade and went to PTU. In our school, the council made a fatal mistake. Vasya Sidorova was left for the second year. The law on general secondary education has not been repealed. This meant a hyena of fire for those who were to learn with him, and a paradise for those who, having cut off Vasis dust from their feet, went on the light path of knowledge.
Tamara Nikolaevna Malceva, a history teacher who took Vasya, tried all of her pedagogical talents, like some moves began, but the next academic year ended. You had to release. The board did not fail this time. In the certificate with no shaking hand was placed "satisfactory" on all subjects. Vasa and the School went each their own way.
Tamar Nikolaevna rested well that summer. The first September is approaching. Once, walking with her granddaughter in the park, she met Vasya. He noticed her from a distance, smiled, shrugged her hands...
How are you living, Vasco?
Well well! You know, thanks to you I understood a lot...Now I went to school...
For the astronauts? (On the street of the Soviet Cosmonauts in our city there is a professional and technical school, where they prepare tinted painters, electricians... well, the elite...).
No is! In the sanitary! I have everything ahead!
........................................................................................
Bright memory to you, Tamara Nikolaevna! Teacher of God! Thank you to everyone who taught me.

We have stopped hundreds of flights and will soon cut our fleet by half.
And what did you do to fight global warming, you cursed Anglo-Saxons?

I got here in the hospital, I mean, I roll on the bed, I enjoy the benefits of the 21st century in the form of a laptop and the internet.

Call from the boss, said there is a possibility to zoom with the customer for half an hour?

No question, headphones in the ears and forward.

So, I sit, I mean, business like that, with a foam in the mouth that I rub the client. The door to the chamber opens (I sit with my back to the door next door), the nurse comes in from behind and pulls the cart in. Without looking back, like Garnett:

and Ivanov! Pop is ready!



Ivanov is me (the surname has been changed)...pop prepared for the wreck (and then it will start)...in the zoom there was complete silence, only the ugly, compressed laugh of my boss slipped...

Only oil and gas will be allowed to travel abroad.

The Leningrad Eskimo.

That summer I honestly bombed two shifts in the children’s camp near Chernigov and talked in my native town in the north in anticipation of September 1st.
There was nothing bad in the camp, but it was not fun. Nearly two kilometers to the river... all according to schedule. The leaders generally from Uzbekistan, Russian know poorly. Children were formed into units according to the principle: half of the northerners - half of the locals. And what is surprising, they were not all rooted in the principle of "Kohly-Russian". The hooligans were friends with the hooligans, the quiet with the quiet. In the senior units, the locals looked at pale northern women, our guys carried black-eyed wilds.
My mother ran away from work cheerfully and said:
Gather up! Tomorrow we will fly to Leningrad.
It was in her style. Then it was passed on to me. She made a spontaneous decision and never later regretted it. It turned out, her institute friend broke up with another caregiver and flew to Sochi from the caperang, and the apartment in one room in the center of Peter for ten days could quite allocate to our disposal.
I was very pleased with Leningrad. My mother made a program. Hermitage, Kunstkamera, Nevsky, Petropavlovka, Pavlovsk and others. The cruiser Aurora was on its last day. But it was Tuesday, a sanitary day.
“Well, we go to the summer garden... Don’t be upset, son! The next time!
(I have never been to Aurora.)
It was a sunny day, the beginning of August. My foot hurt. The furuncle on the right bed was swallowed, my mother from the morning overwhelmed him, putting on the ichthyol. At the entrance we bought an Eskimo for 11 kopecks. Sit on the bench. Leningrad Eskimo of 11 kopecks - still the most delicious in the world! It is a pity, it ends quickly. Asking for the second is useless. I had a tough mother. We were sitting on the bench, glimpsing at the rare August sun in St. Petersburg.
A company approached us from the entrance. Two sympotaches with long hair and a guy with a twisted xub.
I don’t want your ice cream! Distance to!
The guy stopped around us.
The boy! Do you love ice cream? On to!
He gave me two Eskimo sticks and ran after the girls. I looked at my mother...
Slowly or even cold in the throat.
The wonderful summer of 1967 ended.
How history divided us! In the direct and in the translated sense. Is it forever?

In order to bring in line with the requirements of Roskomnadzor, L.N. Tolstoy's book "War and Peace" was renamed "Special Operation and the State Man".

The mass mode smoothly moves into the armoured armor mode.

A friend told me. He is a Tatar by nationality.
I went to the sales department yesterday. There is noise, or. Two managers argue with the mouth foam, the rest split into two camps, support teams, someone quietly neutral in the side hides. The war is hot, the eyes are shed with blood in the killers. One is for Putin, the other for Ukraine and Europe. Words are no longer chosen. One, of course, Benderovets, the second Kremlin fascist. And I had to clarify the question one on the job, get them, distract them. They suddenly notice me and are interested in my opinion. I calmly tell them, when you Slavs kill each other, our time will come, and the great Turkish flag of the Malin Jihad will rise over Eurasia.
Both athletes and supporters shower together. Misunderstanding in the eyes turns into anger. Both are ready to hit me.
See how easy it is to reconcile you. We need a common enemy. You are brothers again. Find a common enemy, but not me, and stop this hoerga.

With a pickup.

Vladimir Vladimirovich, the rate of the dollar has risen strongly!
Why do you need dollars if you don’t have a place to fly?

I have a good smell. This has its advantages: when she lived with her demented grandmother, she saved the house from a gas explosion a hundred times.

The smell helps to choose restaurants to eat.

It helps to determine which store is worth taking meat - and which not. Right from the threshold. By the way, recently an unclear trend: a lot of meat smells very poorly.

I walked by the KFC every day. Different changes smell differently. Hear who normally changes the oil and who is lazy.

There are many curious cases - a colleague stands with you about a serious conversation for half an hour, then goes to the toilet for 2 minutes, goes out again with a serious face. And from him the sperm in the nose straight fucking.

To the smell of sweat I am already quite normal, as well as to the smell of garlic. What do you do with biology? Except for clinical cases. Sometimes a person’s sweat smells sweet. It smells hell. Some serious illness, probably severe diabetes (I only heard this smell in the subway, not from acquaintances).

And so I treated that odor: well, there is.

After a month, the smell went away. and fully.

And suddenly! and suddenly! I learned to communicate with people! I don’t know how to react to their emotions, how to behave. I work on old patterns. For a long time I thought I was mad. Then I realized it was a smell.

I probably defined many emotions by smell!

When the smell returned, people became voluminous again. So the smell needs to be taken care of :)

Remember, in which other country were placed for transparents with the text "Peace. No of War!“?

The wolf in the garden has a fighting friend Masha. Friends from the group.
I wake my son this morning. does not react. I pull the blanket and quietly tick my heel. Through a dream with a smile:
Well Maashaaa!

So, you wake up, and around war and epidemics. Probably the Middle Ages.

An unwavering fighter is a man who, even when sitting in a deep ass, assures himself that he sits with his head high.

I was one day on a train in a trailer car. After the intersection at the intermediate station, his colleague from the "main" composition visited our conductor. And I became an unwilling listener to the story of our guide. From the first person.
I’m constantly working on trailers. And under them distinguish cars, softly speaking, not the best quality. Here I got the car all in cracks, until the wind whispers. Winter, frost and coal heating. Topi - not topi, and on the move all heat blows out. He was upset and the passengers were complaining. No help from the management. In desperation, I spent part of my poor salary (the case was in the 1990s), bought a wide scotch and glued them all the gaps in the wagon. It became noticeably warmer in the car, the complaints stopped, everyone got well. Learned about this, the experience liked it. Purchased officially Scotch, drove one of the "black" wagons in the depot, began to hesitate. In the yard minus 30, in the depot not much warmer. To frozen metal Scottish stick categorically refuses. They send me a race from the office: “Discover the secret.” I have not revealed the secret without a goat. For a long time the leadership did not want to shake, but nothing to do - after a couple of days of torture brought the required. I say to them, "Read what is written on my wagon: "Orenburg-Taschkent." I go to Tashkent, there in January plus 10, I turn the wagon and return to Orenburg.

Yes is. Tell me who was 20 years ago that Putin, while still president, would conduct a military operation against the semi-finalist of the Supreme League KVN, and the Taliban terrorists would call on them to peace talks, I would, gently speaking, cheat!

I don’t like the rules in chess. Chess are very funny figures.

I watch a video about the passage of a column of Russian tanks past a Ukrainian settlement. The correspondent asks the locals how they feel about it and what they think.
They explain that they do not understand the Nifiga and that Zelensky has not yet said anything to do.
And here’s the woman’s voice in the background: “Jura, don’t sleep. Buy the tankers until the boys leave.

“You imagine, Comrade Zhukov, what a dream I dreamed today,” Stalin says, “as if Moscow and Minsk had attacked Kiev, and the Chancellor of Germany begged to stop this war!

In the distance already 2014 went with my wife to my homeland-Yekaterinburg, drink water, meet with classmates.It was in February, just held the Winter Olympics, in Ukraine was abroad with the Maidan, life burl.This year again came together.Again the Winter Olympics, again Ukraine, again, what kind of thing...A friend of childhood asked not to come more in winter...