I photographed a double room, and the hostess had a very beautiful daughter, one year older than me. At that time I didn’t use cannabis. And here, I mean, we smoked this girl, we sat in the kitchen, we played cards, we talked. Girl, it is me.

D: And I thought, why do I have all these difficulties with relationships?

I: Well yes

D: I would have a boy a year or two younger, just for sex

I: - Fuck, I have no free friends.

Five Seconds of Silence and Surprise

D: I go to sleep.



Three years later, I sit down and drink tea and I say: Fuck, that was a slander!

A man writes on the Internet about the achievements of the USSR in war, in space, in sport, and he thinks, “I didn’t have mortgage debts then.”

When my father disappeared in the evacuation in 1942, I began to have a depression, I didn’t want to live anymore. It was then that I began to take the artists of the Little Opera and Ballet Theatre with me on tour. They wanted to save me. On the third, in the terrible cold, they went to Orsk with a boy dragging behind his back the violin number eight.

We were six, I remember them all by name. There were Olga Nikolaevna Golovina, solist, Izya Rubanenko, pianist, accompanist, Boris Osipovich Geft, tenor, my guardian in the future, Kolya Sokolov and Svetlana Sheina – a couple from the ballet, adult people, honored artists. We entered a common car, I got a side shelf, which I also laid on, because we were driving at night. And immediately turned off the light in the car, and each of the adults began not to dress up, but, on the contrary, something extra to wear. Because the blankets were given us transparent.

I had nothing to wear, and the clothes I was wearing were shabby. I crashed under my blanket, and the train touched. I couldn’t warm up anyway and realized that I couldn’t warm up anymore, the car was getting colder. Night, darkness, like in some circle of hell, the dead father behind, the unknown ahead, I go somewhere no one needs. And I remember thinking how wonderful it would be to die in a dream today. He stopped resisting the cold.

I woke up in the dark because it was hot. The blanket became thick and heavy. I turned my fingers over it in the dark and found that I had only six blankets on me. Everyone who was driving with me, without speaking, hid me in the darkness with his own blanket.

Later, when I was deprived of my citizenship, I told my friends, who demanded that I be angry, that I had not yet paid for those blankets. Maybe I will never cry. Here are the five artists, my father and a bunch of other people who warm me up each in their own way – this is my country, and I owe it to it to this day.

Mstislav Rostropovich

It is strange that Putin continues to lie to us, although nothing depends on us anymore.

He worked in the Purina and Whiskas feed warehouse. It was a very cold winter and they left me with a guard for the night, to make sure that the cars did not swallow. If they are swallowed, then in the morning you will not freeze them anymore and the products need to be transported. The guard had a bottle of vodka, but there was no snack. There was a whole warehouse of cat food. What I can say. Wet food type "rabbit in its own juice" on a bowl with pepper, salt and lanka. The World Breakfast!

When people say, “You have to try everything in life,” it almost always means drunkenness, drugs, fuck in the ass. And almost never sports, proper nutrition, I don’t know what you can counter fuck in the ass.



yyy: I tried to quit bad habits at once - smoking and alcohol, until 2 weeks passed, the flight was normal



What about the fucking shit?



Zzz: Is this a bad habit? Why reject her?

As teenagers, we and our comrades went to the Watchtower, on the white rocks. And here is the last night, we mark this case in the tent. We are running out of water. I am heroically invited to go down to the fountain. It is down, the terrain there is very hilly and the slopes of those hills are steep. He pushed a lamp on his head and walked into the dark. He walked a little down the slope and stumbled. I go down to thirty meters. The left arm and rib are broken. And the comrades who watched this from the top saw only how in the darkness, because of the slope, the beam of a powerful light bulb flashes. That’s how I became a Dima-Music.

Back with friends from fishing.

As soon as the contact appears, the wife calls:

Take the oil from the village.

We are on the way, we go in.

And we all hadn’t washed for three days, we smelled fire...

You guys, you smell like a man in your car! A man fisherman.

On the back seat:

Until you sit down, it smells like a man.

They drive silently.

Within a week:

Something doesn’t ring, doesn’t call in the cafe.

We were resting with friends recently in a bar, I got drunk to the state somewhere around the area "in the hollow". I understand what is needed to go home, I call a taxi, I have a designated car - Mazda, white color, number 217, I go out, and here my car comes in, I open the door, I take my foot into the salon and I see Nissan carpets, I understand that I am sitting in the wrong car, I apologize to the driver, I leave. I walk a few meters, look and think, and what’s going on? ? to Mark a, color that, number that, which hero? And only after 20 seconds comes the realization that in the car can be carpets of any company.

Again I sit in the car, the driver looks at me frankly like a fool, I explain that I was confused by carpets, he laughed and we went))

Power loves to play with the people in their dress.

I was shocked by the fate of this wonderful man.
Isaac Itkind was in the 1930s as famous as Chagall and Malevich.. his sculptures are in museums in France, West Germany, the United States and... in the warehouses of the Russian Museum in Leningrad and the Pushkin Museum in Moscow. Maxim Gorky, Vladimir Majakovsky, Sergey Yesenin, Vsevolod Meierhold, Vasily Kachalov, he was cared for by the pillars of the Soviet power - the narcoman of education Anatoly Lunacharsky and the first secretary of the Leningrad Committee of the party Sergey Kirov. And the exhibitions of his sculptures were an event in the cultural life of pre-war Russia.
He was born on April 9, 1871 in the Hassid town of Smorgon of the province of Vilnius. His father Jacob was a Hassid Rabbi. Isaac had to follow in his father’s footsteps. But.. the boy showed the talent to glue figures from clay. He could quietly observe his neighbors, and his hands at this time were gluing themselves. He was an absolute selfish. But he glued the people from the clay, and this was forbidden by their religion, so the Hassis ignored him and considered him a goy who lost God. One day, a local writer from Vilnius came to their house, quietly looked at his figures and left. A few days later, an article appeared in the newspaper, Where it was written that in Smorgoni lives a self-made man who creates masterpieces. And the same Hashis, who sprinkled the straw at the house of the Itkinds, sent a chosen man to the town. The selected went from house to house, showed illiterate craftsmen a newspaper with an article about Itkind and collected money so that "this slammy Isaac" could go to study "for the real sculptor".
I’m not going to tell you all of his biography. If you are interested, click, Google will tell you everything. I will only say that in those times Jews were forbidden to live in large cities, especially in the capital, even teachers of the Moscow School of Art of Painting, Sculpture and Architecture, admired by the talent of the young sculptor were not able to break through for him the opportunity to live and study in the capital. And only the fame spread across Moscow, thanks to the participation of Maxim Gorky, allowed him to survive, and later become accepted in the Union of Artists. Savva Morozov bought his works. Theodore Roosevelt's brother persuaded him to move to America and promised a safe life.
In 1937, Russia celebrated the 100th anniversary of the death of Alexander Pushkin, murdered in a duel. The Hermitage has announced a contest for the best sculpture of Pushkin. Hundreds of works were presented at the exhibition. The first prize was awarded to three sculptures of Itkind – “Young Pushkin”, “Alexander Pushkin” – a poet in the last years of his life and “Dying Pushkin”. A simple and phenomenal work: the head of a dying poet on a pillow. This work cannot be translated in words! You see the face of a person who is already calmed by death - eyes closed, deadly straightened wrinkles on the forehead, and only the corners of the lips are still tormented by terrible pain...
In the same 37th Isaac Itkind was arrested for 58 articles. He was accused of spying for Japan and selling secrets from the Baltic fleet. Oh how!! And he died... He died for everyone. The sculpture “Young Pushkin” still has the dates of his life from 1871 to 1938.
In 1944, rumors began to circulate around Alma-Ata about some half-wild old man — not the dwarf, not the wizard — who lives on the outskirts of the city, in the land, feeds on roots, collects forest pines and makes amazing figures from these pines. Children, who in this wartime unattendedly wandered through the deserts and suburbs of the city, told that these wooden figures are really crying and really laughing... Rumors spread across the city and the leaders of the Kazakh Art Foundation decided to look at these “living figures of pines”. Several famous Kazakh artists, including the artist Nikolai Mukhin, went to the outskirts of Alma-Ata, to the Main Arik. After a long search, they found an earthquake in a clay hill. They approached the lawn leading into the depths of the earth. From there there was a slight knock of the hammer on the cut. Someone of the artists bended, shouted in the hole: “Hey!”
A small, gray, 73-year-old old man came out of the earthquake. He heard badly and spoke horribly illiterate Russian – he had a monstrous Jewish accent. But when he named his names to the artists, they trembled. Itkind, whose name became chrestomatic for them in their student years, lived in some crotovya cave, starved, ate roots and food and... created sculptures.
Why is? How did you get here? Ask the artists.
“I was arrested in the 37th year and deported first to Siberia, then here, to Kazakhstan. Now I was released from the camp because I was too old for them. He was released without the right to return to Moscow. They said they gave me a lifetime referral.
Why were you arrested?
Because I am the enemy of the people, a Japanese spy. "I sold the secrets of the Baltic Navy to Japan," answered Itkind, and asked with an untold Jewish intonation: "Can you believe it?
One Mukhin dared to enter his cave and pull out the still unfinished work "Laughing Old Man". The old man was taken to the local museum. And the old man lived in this earthquake for another 12 years!! 12 years ago!!! I am hungry and hungry!!! He was the enemy of the people and no one dared to help him!!! And only Mukhin occasionally visited him and threw a little money. 12 years ago!!! to
In 1956, at the threshold of the Alma-Atina State Theatre, a gnomic-like little old man aged 85 appeared and asked the director of the Alma-Atina Theatre to take him to work to draw decorations and paint his ass. He said that now that he was removed from the title of "enemy of the people" and the prohibition to live in large cities, he still will not go to Moscow or Leningrad - not to anyone. With a salary of 60 r. and housing provided. Dali topchan under the theatrical staircase... During the next two years he climbed the theatrical streets, painted his ass and decorations. And at night he went down to the basement and took up his real job.. bought from drivers for a bottle of vodka old pni and corks and created!!! to
And only two years later the new young artist of the theater looked into the basement and stumbled: there were two dozen unique wooden sculptures, made by a great, if not a great master. The artist asked the old man how his surname was, and remembered he had heard this surname at the art institute at lectures on the history of Soviet fine art. of course! This was the famous three tree sculptors in the 1930s - Konenkov, Erzya and Itkind. Konenkov was alive, he became an academic, Erzia died, and Itkind...
So in Kazakhstan "again" found Isaac Itkind.
Later he was again accepted into the Union of Artists and even allocated a two-bedroom apartment. His sculptures began to be purchased by both individuals and museums. At the age of 87 he was once again celebrated. The truth of local, Kazakh scale... He created for the rest of his life.
He died in Alma-Ata on February 14, 1969, aged 98.
From the interview: Do you know why I survived in jail? They arrested me, put me in the Petropavlovsk fortress, in the basement, alone, and for eight months the KGB investigator beat me every day, even knocked out my drum in my left ear. Everyone required me to write that I was a Japanese spy and what secrets of the Baltic Fleet I sold to Japan. I couldn’t write it because I couldn’t write in Russian. And then they beat me again, and again...You know how I survived? I survived because I had a very good profession. They gave me one piece of black bread a day. In the morning, a piece of bread was given for the whole day. But I didn’t eat that bread until night. I’ve been spending the whole day on this bread. Last night before I went to bed I ate this bread. The next day, they beat me again, but they gave me bread, so I could keep the rest of the day and not think of them.

In connection with the pandemic, men are allowed to invite women not to the cinema and restaurant, but immediately to their home.

In his time as an employed employee, he worked in a office that sold detergents for food production and took us somehow a test batch of one mill. We needed to go to them, help to figure out, make sure that our chemistry was used correctly and in place. The factory at night. And, although I had a schedule from 9 to 18, I agreed – I’m, fucking, a responsible employee! I went to the factory from eight to eight in the morning. I came out a bit alive and answered the results to the director - how it all went, etc. And he tells me - don't have to go to the phone, you will come to the office, you will tell everything. I was a little surprised and explained that I will only be in the office tomorrow, and now I plan to go home and bike. What the director was very upset and asked if I did not swell the job to walk, because the working day at 9 begins... I did not go to the office, and I did not work there for a long time at all).

There were only two chickens left in the village. Chickens long-lived, no one remembers what year they are from 2008 or earlier.

However, the eggs are still properly carried. But, sadly, time took its way and the chicken was left alone. And while we were all thinking what to do, a few days ago the chicken left the yard and brought a girlfriend.

She showed that where and how, this is already living soul in soul. Neighbors are all questioned about the disappearance of the chicken, but the arrival has not been identified.

I thought, can I put it on the stream?

1996: Watch a zombie movie where bitten characters don’t tell friends about bites.



2021: People you know personally go to work with the coronavirus, the characters of zombies films no longer seem so stupid.

In the pursuit of happiness, companions are important.

I read the story of October 18 about cakes and remembered my own.
In the first half of the 90s I was a student, my mother taught at the university. Once in our house appeared a large bag of scraps. Mother explained that in the studio near us they wanted to throw them out, and she accidentally came near and picked them up. The mother was able to sew, from the more or less large she carved out and sewed a variety of little things - from nose wipes to household bags, the slats smaller went on wipes for things that were worn at home. Completely unsuitable pieces were used as vets.
Many years later, shortly before her death, her mother confessed - she then arranged a cleaner in this studio. Early in the morning, while I was still asleep, she went there to wash the floor, and returned before I had to get up — all for me to be able to study peacefully. Then I went to my main job. I kept my work secret, afraid that I would quit school if I found out.
The relatives were not so that they did not help, but quite the opposite - they were sure that the popular path of students and their parents with abundant submissions would not grow to it. And they, by virtue of their intimacy, have the right to get a generous hand out of this stream. And they acted through the grandmother: "Why doesn't your daughter help relatives? You have to explain to her that she’s wrong!” And she was embarrassed to say that her daughter, an institute teacher, was washing the floors in the studio and walking home in a coat, tailored from the garbage.
Take care of your parents and grandparents who are still alive. You may not even know what they have gone through for your well-being.

To “smoking,” “smoking” and “sinking” were added “non-working days,” instead of a hard quarantine or lockout. That look, soon those who died from Covid will be called "unable to recover."

There is one familiar company of young people, guys with a sense of humour and black girl not to confuse them. There is a guy in this company, Seryoga. I don’t know exactly what the violation is, but something with his legs and so when he goes to a meeting, it feels like he’s dancing. And then, at the moment of meeting Sergey, he comes (dancing) to us and I ask:

And who is it?

I answered in a very calm manner:

This is a disco.

I couldn’t stand up, rattled like a fool and was very ashamed. Blessed Sereg, the guy with self-irony and not offended, the habit is already saying, he himself scolds the nickname.

Those who failed to build communism successfully ruin capitalism by entering it with their heads and dragging the Russian people into poverty.