Yesterday evening, my wife and I were lying in bed, clinging to our phones. No one has been up for 20 minutes. In the bathroom, something falls loudly on the floor. My wife immediately said, “What did you drop there?“?”

Why are communists everywhere and communism nowhere?

It’s a 10 year old story, but I remember it all the time. Once in the comments under the article about the Porsche Cayenne someone posted a photo of this car as an example of the desperate flavorlessness of the Moscow major. I wondered who was that dumb.

The Cayenne was presented by the Porsche distributor to the Moscow government, and it for some reason gave it to the Moscow fire service. The car fell into the hands of the head of the service, Yevgeny Chernyshev, and so far the whole story looks like a banal bribe.

But not. Yevgeny Chernyshev transformed the "Kayen" into a full-fledged fire car, and from a five-seat car it turned into a three-seat car: half of the cabin was occupied by compressed air balloons, fire extinguishers, masks, tanks, sawing saw, a set of chains, a spare battery. On the front appeared a professional swing, on the roof - beacons. Cayenne, in addition to the majority, is also a good SUV, plus very dynamic, which allowed Chernyshev to quickly go to the scene of events.

Yevgeny Chernyshev, already being the chief, was the first to come to the fire and began to work himself, for which he received the nicknames "Tushila" and "Respectator". On his account was the liquidation of 250 fires, including the extremely complex fires of the Ostankine Tower, Manage, MGU... And Cayenne was for him not a way to dominate the surroundings, but a service dog.

Yevgeny Chernyshev died on March 20, 2010 due to the collapse of the roof during the extinguishment of the business center at the 2nd Huthorskaya in Moscow. So far, he has taken five people out. He was 46 years old.

For me, this is not even a story of heroism, but of a man who loved his business so much that even the gifted Cayenne did not blind his eyes. Such people exist now, but, unfortunately, sometimes it becomes obvious only after death. In life, we write about others.
********
P.S
There is a photo of this guy.
But I don’t like when pictures are stuffed with text.
What can the card of a person who died for his cause for the good of people say?
He is like all of us, normal people.
by ******
Whoever is interested can follow the link.

The golden toilet in the house of the head of the GIBDD of the Stavropol region was rewarded.

I met a cute girl. Communicated a couple of times. I ordered the delivery of flowers to her office on Friday morning. I did not warn her, I thought I would make a surprise. On the delivery website as the recipient indicated "office number such, table second from the entrance".



The morning began with the call of the courier that he brought flowers to the office, and there were only harsh men who did not expect such a gift.

- They are interested in you, ask to call your phone, without this they do not let go, - said the courier.

“Kate, give it,” I gave him in response.

Who are you Katya? The courier has made his situation worse. The call interrupted.



A second call followed, which began with a threat to my address. Someone strange was trying to find out where I was right now. Through a wall of mutual insults and misunderstandings, we found out that the bouquet was intended for the neighboring office.



A few minutes later, a third call came out. The courier said he had met resistance again and did not understand what to do with the bouquet. When he found Katya and handed her repeatedly hand-in-hand flowers, the man who worked at the next table was very opposed to such attention to his wife and again tried to find out the identity of "Michael". When I offered to give them to someone, I dropped the call.



I learned the details in the evening: Katya called me, asking if I would go to her office. “Why? I asked coldly, remembering a previously unknown husband. “I am late to work today, and when I came, the girls whisper that Catherine Petrovna and Sergey Ivanovich are getting divorced. You can imagine, her lover sent her a beautiful bouquet in the morning.

On the way to the temple are the most greedy haishniki.

Following the topic of spammers...

I always take the phone and talk to everyone. I get a call from the health center, I sign up for a reception. Call with the offer to repair the windows for free, I agree immediately and give the address of the health center. They offer tickets to the theater, I order at once 5 pieces of the most expensive and I agree to bring them to the company for a free replacement of windows. Even when they call from the security service of the sberbank and ask to name the card number and the PIN code, I honestly take the card in my hands and dictate the data.

Why the name for the white bear, which appeared in the Moscow Zoo, will be chosen by popular vote, but to build or not a new elite residential complex in the forest park zone - here in the opinion of the people deeply laugh?

We have a dog. He is already very old, deaf, blind, has gone through dreams and fire and water.

He was always afraid of dust. As soon as the vacuum cleaner was turned on, he ran into another room and hid himself.

I was pleased today:

Daddy and Daddy! Jack doesn’t run away from the vacuum cleaner. That means he is no longer afraid of him.

No, guys... this means that our old Jack has become very old and completely deaf.

I was six years old. And I had a friend Leha (son of my mom’s friend).

Another time my mom’s girlfriend came to my mom with my friend and in conjunction with her son. We were given a iron ruble for fun and we went for a walk.

We went to the square, where there was no one, and Leha told me that if you buried the ruble today, you will have two rubles tomorrow.

I believed.

A friend.

They cut off the ruble and put two rubles in the ground. Carefully put the deer in place. After the walk, they returned home without spending a penny.

The next day I came to this place alone, removed the dirt, excavated the whole place - there is no money.

I was upset.

When I met Leha, he told me that he didn’t find money either.

No need to doubt.

A friend.

After I went to another region, and came home as an adult and set up in the police and there in the archive saw his name by chance. raised the materials. 17 times he went to the police for crimes: theft, hooliganism. He already had two terms with me.

And only then I remembered that ruble.

I am ashamed to admit, I don't know why, but I always have a plan X in my head.

Over the years of my life, whole schemes have accumulated in my head and they are constantly being supplemented, mutated and complicated. For a long time, I decided that if I became a boomer, I would definitely go to live at the sea. I planned everything.

In the summer there are fruits, you can sleep outdoors, with washing also no problems. In the winter, I mentally dive closer to the heart of the big city, where the houses will be protected from the ice wind brought from the water, and fast food cafes will be fed with all sorts of snacks. I’ll be a little robbing in the markets and dressing in секонд-hands during a 90% discount.

I have already come up with the idea that I will get to the translators because I have a good experience.

Here, on my new job, I frequently visit the roof. In the houses of the old foundation they are terrible: dirt, tons of pigeon spotting, the smell of ammonia and the outer darkness. But when I get on the bright and spacious lofts of new buildings, where brick walls look rougher than the design in apartments with a "loft" finish, I subconsciously start to look. It is dry, warm and clean, and all wires and pipes are securely wrapped in a thick insulation. There is an exit to the roof, from which there is a paved view of the city or the Gulf of Finland. At such moments in my shower my inner bitterness immediately wakes up and says, "Here you can fit well if you don't go to the sea."

Why do I have these thoughts? Am I thinking about it at all? Some primitive instinct makes me think about survival and seek comfort where it shouldn’t be by default.

For some reason, I make notes in my head about what happens to delayed food and where it is used by expensive stores and some hypermarkets. I know that a lot of all kinds of clothes, clothes and medicines are given for free on the avito, I have a clear understanding of where you can easily get a rubber and where to deliver it. My inner buzz is constantly with me, and all the new knowledge and skills he somehow begins to apply to the arrangement of his sad fate.

Please tell me that I am not a lost idiot, and somebody has it too.

Xxx: I was one day at 25 in the morning at 7 on my sister's birthday sent for a bouquet until she woke up (so the circumstances that we lived together for about a year. How did she know that the florists are already trading at this time, because everything in the area started working at nine? I, having bought this bouquet of roses, and periodically cuddling my nose (and I am a terrible savage and up to 10 is not a person at all), I eat in a row of hairy and unpainted. One woman sympathetically said, “Well, I gave you flowers.”

xxx: Noted that lately, often idealized 90s, music, clothes, series, etc.

I have something to say about this.

I am 12 years old, summer, I went to a friend to go for a walk, went for him, we went out, a guy of 20+ years approaches us, says guys, mute me money for a dose, otherwise I cut off, not a lot about us, I am 89 years old, a little later, holy nineties, a friend, born not late, coordination and perception crumble, I make a decision, send him for money home, knowing perfectly that he has no one at home and that he will not go out, he leaves, this sparkle, broke the bottle, holds, I have a throat and says to me that the pudding, if he does not come, he did not come, he took me for 2 hours in my area, with a rose at my throat, no one paid attention, I asked with everyone, you know how bright

Fuck that time.

Russian corruption ends with Colonels

The charming story of opera singer Maria Ostrouhova.
Once we went to Slovenia, and from there decided to go to Venice for a day. It would be nothing, but in the first three hours we were stolen. Everything was taken out of the bag: credit cards, cash and passports. I had my passports with VISA, and the worst thing was an English visa, for which I had to fly to London three days later to sing Montevideo’s Coronation of Poppey. One of the main roles. The frightening singer economical English did not dare to get.
I had a nervous breakdown. We immediately called the consulate (nearest was in Milan) – but summer, summer! The consul is on vacation.
We ran into the international police station on Piazza San Marco. This is the international police in Italy. They didn’t speak English, and I didn’t speak Italian at the time. What to do? My brain boiling from the heat and adrenaline gives an original decision: to try to explain with the carabiners phrases from the opera (good I always literally translated the texts of the parties).
I started with a mixture of the Coronation of Popea and the Glukovsky Orpheus:
I am despised and consoled! Io manco, io moro (I am all denied and reluctant! I am losing consciousness, I am dying.
The police officers would be happy to blow up in my face, but, seeing my scratched body and general hysterical state, they sat on a chair and gave me water.
Then we had to describe the essence of the problem. I decided to continue on “Orpheus and Eurydice” – especially since, in my view, the words “Eurydice” and “passport” were quite interchangeable.
What would I do without my passport? Dove andro without my passport? What will I do without a passport? Where can I go without a passport?
It has worked. The police activated. They began to show me pictures of various thieves and thieves until I saw a lady in a hijab who hit me from all over the bridge.
This is the damned woman. Vorrei smembrarla! This is the damned woman! I want to split it!)
After recovering from the shock, the policemen gave us a certificate, according to which we were to be transported free of charge to our place of departure (Trieste), gave us water and a dry paddle, and promised to keep us informed. All the way to the station, I prayed to the spirit of Monsieur Monteverdi, whose opera was at risk of losing its primacy.
There is a call at the station. The agitated officer asked to return to the area. When we got there, all the policemen stood up at the entrance with happy eyes, shocking with our passports. It turns out that the thief threw them out along with the credit cards in a male toilet in San Marco, where they were found by a boy from Bangladesh who brought them to the police.
dying of the happiness that suddenly fell upon us, I shouted:
Lord the Cavalier! Vi benedico per la vostra bella e gentilezza! (Siner Knight, I bless you for your kindness and kindness!)
The policeman said goodbye to me:
Your language is very elegant! “You have a very elegant Italian!”

I will not be surprised if in the house of the head of the GIBDD of the Moscow region will be found the Amber Room.

Judging by the modern requirements, June has to code "for himself" for three years. The question of curves of variables disappears by itself.



Yyy: Meanwhile, the gentlemen are already coding under themselves

Xxx: My father told me that he once painted Stalin in a school diary. He painted as hard as he could to the extent of his original artistic talents. Just in school his portraits were hanging everywhere, in every classroom and corridor. In general, this pattern on the father of the peoples first saw the mother and such great puzzles to the son inserted that the father did not like to paint the whole future life. And the diary that mother burned, then the new father swallowed and did not paint anymore.

This story was told to me by my father when I, as a student, asked him to help me paint.

Mallar easily painted the grey wakn...

Exactly 64 years ago, in 1957, a doctor decided not to patent his vaccine so that all pharmaceutical companies could produce it and offer it to all children in the world.
Albert Bruce Sabin was born in Belostok in 1906.
A Jewish physician and virologist, known for discovering a polio vaccine, renounced the patent money, allowing it to spread to everyone, including the poor.
Between 1959 and 1961, millions of children from eastern countries, Asia and Europe were vaccinated: the polio vaccine suppressed the epidemic.
Polio has taken generations away from the face of the earth.
His vaccine, introduced in a sugar cube, changed the history of mankind.
He said: “Many insisted that I patented the vaccine, but I didn’t. This is my gift to all the children of the world.” – and that was his wish.
During the Cold War, Sabin donated his viral strains to Soviet scientist Mikhail Chumakov to allow the development of his vaccine in the Soviet Union.
He continued to live on a salary, not as exciting as a university professor, but with a heart filled with satisfaction for doing so much good to all mankind.