When you come to Peter, the Moscovites like to compare Peter and Moscow. And to compare Peter and the city where they were born - do not like.

In 1987, 25 schoolchildren from the Harvest High School (Kazakhstan) were encouraged with a free trip to Leningrad. I am lucky to be among them. We stand in front of the Ermitage. Just like in the mausoleum. Dozens of groups mixed at the entrance, guides argue, we are waiting for the second hour. And then one of our guys, Serega, approached the female administrator and said, “We are standing for the second hour, and we have, by the way, a Vietnamese in the delegation!” The woman said, “Where is he?” Sergey pointed to the only Kazakh guy in our group, Manas Kagenov, who really, as everyone immediately seemed, smiled at the Vietnamese. The administrator picked up Manas and asked him strictly, “Are you a Vietnamese?” He did not get confused and issued a tirade in Kazakh language: "Kezekte tұrudan шаршағanam sonša vietnam da, japon da болуғa kelsemine" (I am so tired of standing in a line that I am ready to be not only a Vietnamese, but also a Japanese). There was a pause. “Masha! The woman cried out, “Get out of this group, here’s a Vietnamese!” Under the jealous eyes of the other waiting people, we slipped into the building of the museum. Of course, the nickname “Vietnamese” was fixed on Manas forever.

I worked for the fourth year in a small factory. We mainly work on contracts. The essence of the work: received an order for several hundred thousand wunderwaffles. Cut - gathered - disassembled - drawn instructions - sent.



I am not saying that the company is prospering, but it is not miserable. There is work. You can almost always take overtime. Sometimes you have to work more to accomplish the plan.



We had two good freezers. One of them retired. No second brother. The second miller of the month two walked and dropped the direction on the brains: "Take another miller...". did not take. There were no vacancies. I do not know why. The second (and the only!) The freezer breaks the leg in two places. He goes to hospital. The company stood up. I did not fulfill my order on time. The penalty is 3 lemons.

Same with the designer. A young man came to work. An engineer from God. He asked for six months to raise his salary. If the workers are on the deal, this is on the salary. There was no opportunity to work out - he was fired, because two children were simply unrealistic to pull for 25,000 rubles. It was really a pity that he resigned, he was a great man. He was replaced by a student girl. No matter what the project is, it’s a cane on a cane. He was finally fired. But before that, she managed to draw something that in our three-dimensional reality did not want to be assembled. As a result, the company worked for two weeks to realize what could not be realized. As a result, again a fine for breaking deadlines, a warehouse overwhelmed by a marriage of five to six million.



I came to the HR department, and they say that the instruction from above is not to pay overtime, because they made a bunch of marriage. Was it my fault for this marriage? He wrote an application for dismissal.



Do-o-o-o-o w w w w w w w

I worked as an accountant in a scientific organization in a small town in the south of Russia. It was winter, it darkened very early. During the tea-drinking at work, the loudest news was discussed: a maniac broke up in the city. It attacks in the dark, in the area adjacent to the park. He beats women, rapes, takes bags and jewelry.

The women were found frozen in unconscious condition.



Among the employees was Svetlana, a complete but very nice woman, she alone raised a little daughter.



And here literally a few days later, Svetlana comes to work, and with laughter and tears tells:

“I go home after work, I rush to pick up my daughter from the kindergarten, and the shortest way through the edge of the park, past the monument and the ‘Eternal Fire’. Suddenly I hit my head and I fell. Strikes one after another, but I’m in a thick coat. I beat, I turn, the man grabbed my hair and beat me in the face. And I thought that my daughter was waiting for me, as she rattled and turned him over! And he sat on him on his horse, and grabbed his legs, and how could he beaten and scratched with both his fists? And I weigh a lot, he can’t break out! And then I hear a wild whisper and screams, it turns out, I was whispering all the time, and he started screaming when I realized that I couldn’t get out. There people fled, unless I was removed from him.”



This is how the maniac was stopped.



And Svetlana was saved by a puffy winter hat, the first blow did not silence her. And the horror of the thought that the daughter will remain an orphan.

In time planted corruptors to the elections give a good voting harvest.

The Apricot.

When my parents cut off a piece of land outside the city cemetery, a small tree grew on the site. The Apricot.
Her neighbor put her across the street.
After the war, this land was counted below the city line. None of None.
This is how the man wanted to carry out his limit of self-determination and then legalize it. But it happened differently.

When the country was a little hesitated by the war, these lands there, on top, decided to distribute housing to the frontmen in need. Which, like our large family, lived and worshiped in the semi-dubled dried chambers of the post-war city.

From year to year, the tree accidentally arrived to us grew, became stronger, did not require care. After all, for a long time, we did not have a water supply on the street.
Over time, the tree turned into a beautiful broken apricot.
But the fruits of it until they are fully ripe, although they were fragrant, but the taste was still bitter, and with acid. The bone, like every wild, was bitter too.
Therefore, no matter how much we, children, loved the early fruit, its fruits were almost not eaten green.
Later, already coming from the army, I understood the main merit of this tree.
Her invaluable contribution to the life of our family was in another.

Thro the summer, as if the chicken with its wings protected its chickens, the apricot with its branches with its leaves hid us from the burning southern sun.
We loved the whole family gathering at the table in the shadow of her crown. All summer family holidays were celebrated in the yard. From the smelly radio "Latvia" with a silenced background usually poured music. We, the children, ate, the parents with their friends drank, told about the war various cases.
After the “third table” came the “Kreminne” banks. The older brother played the favourite of the parents "Amur and Danube waves", then something more, and then we stretched the favourite in our family "Run the wanderer from Sakhalin". The tone was given by my mother. She had a beautiful ringing voice. Something in the middle between Ruslanova and Zykina.
For the ringing clean voice and for the place of birth, all neighbors and friends called her Kursk sloth.
With a whispering voice, with all my strength, together with all the orals and me.

And then the apricot began to get sick.
At first, in the heart of one of the previously splintered branches appeared a crust, then a crack appeared in the trunk of the tree itself. It did not last one year.
Year by year, the core of the trunk became thorn, the cracks grew up, the trunk fell.
Eventually, the armor became almost empty. The whole tree was held on the crust and a small layer of wood underneath it. The trunk became a deliberately curved foul tube.
The tree was large, and I was afraid that in a strong wind, part of the tree could break and fall on the veranda of the house. The consequences could be imagined.

Early in the spring, before going on a business trip for a few months from home, I cut off all the branches to remove the sailing. Sometimes there are strong storms.
It was left to spit the trunk with a few very thick branches.
Three months later, when I returned in the summer, the tree, or rather what was left of it, appeared before me as a huge, damaged green wild image.

Hundreds of shoots of green branches rushed up to the sun from a seemingly dead tree.
It is incredible.
But six years later, I had to rip this already hopelessly painful tree.
A tree that for more than 50 years has been an integral part of our already weakened family.
In the autumn, I found a man with a gasoline, and he gradually cut a rotting stem under the root.

In the spring, three small branches broke out of the dead pine.
They could be crushed with their feet or cut off with their hands in order to finally kill the remainder of life in this rotten pine. It’s simple and inconceivable to melt all of your past. to forget.

In fact, there was no such thing. He was eaten by a disease, turning his whole body into wood dust.
Only a small slice of the bark and a piece of living wood were the source from which these three grooves broke.
I had no hope that something could survive from this island of life, let alone to grow up.
“The living is the living, the dead is the dead,” I thought when I looked at the picture of a dead tree with sadness. Not determined to do what I had to do.
And when I had already taken my leg to put an end to my doubts once and for all, the mother of my wife suddenly looked out from the door of the house.

by Volodya! Leave it! She said. Let’s see what happens next.
Let’s go, Elena Vasilievna! I easily agreed with her.
It was like a stone fell from my chest.

So, from three branches, gradually leaving the strongest, setting stretches, we grew a new tree of young apricots.
Like her ancestor, despite her death, her offspring continues to delight the eye with their lush bloom in the early spring and abundance of fruit during the period of maturation. It fills the courtyard with coolness on hot summer days.
* * * *
P.S
The whole story in one picture.
http://vfl.ru/fotos/0d85903627190155.html

The evening news.
The most elegant event of the week in Moscow was recognized the wedding of a cleaner from "Gazprom" and a carrier from Sheremetyevo.

There is no healthy competition. All competitions are sick with a thirst for gain or fame.

My friend on the balcony has a plush Doberman. Today, a neighbor wrote a complaint to the district administration that he is aggressive. seriously.

I’m one of those who have a chair at home instead of a hangover, a bag with bags, a bowl in the oven, medicines in the refrigerator, and a coffee bank with nails.

How do you know Armenian so well?

My teacher at the school was an Armenian.

A colleague called, said that she was in the hospital with female disorders.

She said literally: "They propose, if the dropless does not help, to do some euthanasia."

I laughed, realizing that she was confused with abrasion.

The next morning, telling the rest at work about the sick, decided to laugh the people.

I say, “Ilonka said, they are offering euthanasia.”

The first: “Let it agree, nothing terrible!”

The second: "I have been done twice, tomorrow as a cucumbers!"

“Doctors will not advise bad!”

One programmer developed software for one of our large companies. He asked for my help in putting it into operation. When I sat down with one woman and told her that I would show her how to make changes to the files, she breathed with relief and then said, “I’m so glad you’ll be teaching me for him.”

Surprised, I said that my colleague was much more experienced than me.

“Yes,” she said, “but I feel much more comfortable with you...I’m nervous with smart people.”

If you give a palace to pigs, the pigs in the palace will never become humans, but the palace will inevitably turn into a pig farm.

Flight Valkyrie

In the early 1990s, the military part lost among the Volga steppes. To the nearest large settlement - from half a hundred kilometers. In most auxiliary positions - the wives of officers (other work in the district is still not, and in the hungry 90s the extra penny in the family budget did not hinder anyone). One detail: the military part - VDV.

For those who did not serve an explanation: the monetary remuneration of a military servant is formed somewhat differently than that of civilians. Two main components are the salary of the military rank (conditionally: the captain receives more of a major, but less of a major) and the salary of the military position, as well as a lot of surcharges (for years of service, for access to secret information, special conditions of service, etc.). So, the desanters were entitled (and still seem to be entitled) a surcharge for performing a certain number of parachute jumps. I will not say the exact size, as much as it was possible to get up to 50% of the salary on the military rank.

This is the same 50% of the salary and did not give rest to numerous combat friends. To jump once - and get a solid increase in salary for a whole year, all this seemed like a great idea to replenish the family budget. In short, the commander of the unit was besieged with this issue for almost a year. And if you think that two dozen women can’t stand the brain of one general, then you obviously underestimate the abilities of the opposite sex.

In general, after some time, even the combat general could not withstand, said "X... with you, dear women" and appointed a day of leaps for all the ladies - soldiers. “Command the parade” was commissioned by my father’s co-worker. Two dozen people were loaded into a corn farm, a couple of sergeants were given to the father's fellow servant in reinforcement, and, as they say, goodbye to the earth.

In the beginning, everything went well, until the plane reached the desired height, and one of the sergeants opened the door and invited him to exit. As you understand, the female battalion immediately paralyzed, and the nearest lady to the exit began a natural hysteria. The sergeant tried to apply the same technique that had been successfully used with newly recruited soldiers for many decades before, namely: take the jumping for the skirts, and put the acceleration of the knee under the ass, send the puppy to fly overboard the aircraft. However, it almost immediately turned out that this technique does not work with the female contingent at all.

To begin with, the first "bird" who got under his hand scratched the sergeant's whole face with his nails, came to his knee in his mouth, and, breaking out, fled to the other end of the plane. At that time, all the other valquiries were already there. The sergeant, who had received a strict order from the general before the very flight "look to all these b... jump," made a key mistake: instead of negotiating with the enemy, he, pressing with one hand the scratched face, moved onto a crowd of jumpers with the firm intention to throw them all out of the plane.

Have you ever seen a women’s fight? Ask any police officer what is the difference between a male and a female fight. The main difference: in male fighting, as a rule, opponents do not aim to destroy each other. To cut, to immobilize – yes, but not to destroy. In contrast, for women, fighting is like the last battle in life, where you have to survive at all costs. Therefore, scratching the face, stripping the hair, getting the falling on the ground, etc. goes on. At first, a few people stumbled upon the unfortunate sergeant. The remaining at this time with the eyes of the zombies looked at the unfortunate fellow servant of his father. As he later told, he had already had Afghanistan, Tajikistan and a couple of small local conflicts behind his shoulders at the time. But he was never so scared. You can’t shoot the enemy (although you really wanted to), jump out of the plane too (he doesn’t have a parachute). The only thing left was to knock on the door of the pilot’s cabin and scream “Say to...your mother!”

The plane landed on the ground. And the general who approved all this madness, and the husbands of the failed jumpers. The female battalion left the aircraft quite relentlessly. The wounded sergeant had to be taken under his arms (later it turned out that the bones were whole, but the scratched face was added to the whole body). My father’s co-worker got out of the plane, sat down and smoked. He was approached by a general, commander of the unit.

Do you want a medal?
Better than vodka.

The issue of women’s jumping in part was not raised.

Dmitry Peskov is the only secretary in the world to get on the Forbes list.

Great Russia, and garbage incinerators are nowhere to put.

The sounds awakened. A car could not get under the windows for a long time. The starter brushes, then catches and swallows in a second. And so for about half an hour. This is the battery - health, see, breathe. Oru: the saucer pull out! and pause. I hear: it starts from the pipe and leaves smoothly. In the evening, I find out that the nine was stolen from our courtyard.

I am going to surrender as a co-conspirator.

There would be an Indonesian who would fool Putin, and in response - a ban on palm oil!

Good day! Have you tried our remedy for cockroaches?

and yes. It works.

– Oh! It is wonderful! Thanks for the good news! Could you tell me more about the result?

What do you expect to hear? What do the cockroaches have gathered ten coats for me so that I don’t bring any more?