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And we'll start with an anecdote.
Vovochka and his family are sitting at the table, having dinner, that is. Everyone is fine and
fun. They talk about nothing like that. Well, Vovochka thought, thought that
I would also blurt out. And says:
- And I write poetry.
Everything ????? Read it.
- Won't you be offended?
- no, no, what are you doing.
Vovochka begins:
- Our mother gives a helicopter: she gives it to everyone, but to dad - here (naturally)
depicts) Mom looks at her son unkindly, and everyone else
fun. What a joker.
- Dad is also a helicopter: fuck everyone, but here’s mom (again gesture)
Dad experiences emotions similar to mom's.
- My sister is also a helicopter: she smokes, drinks and puts it in her mouth..
Vovochka already has three well-wishers.Only the grandfather will pour out.
- Grandfather is also a helicopter #oh big, but he won’t get up!
There was a burning smell in the air and an ominous silence hung.
Vovochka gets up from the table and finishes the poem:
- Vova is also a helicopter: he pops up and goes to bed..
######
When I served as a coachman at the post office. When I worked at the All-Russian Central Communist Party, then
I had the opportunity to work with some D.E. with whom I am forever
all sorts of crazy things happened. Somehow he and I were late for
morning planning meeting under the following circumstances: we are going to
trolleybus to work, we don’t bother anyone. At the stop "Home"
books" the driver was delayed in closing the door, and the standing
near the open middle door D.E., taking the opportunity, decided to
spit on her, which he was not slow to do. At this time to
another one came running up the trolley bus, wanting not to be late for the
job, and it all came right in his face. Without understanding anything,
he decided to get on the trolleybus. D.E. it wasextremely
annoyed with what was happening and, for some reason, out of embarrassment, pushed again
came running. He fell out of the trolleybus and plopped onto the asphalt. B
At this time the driver decided to move off, and D.E. decided to look out
door. He stuck his head out and then the door closed. Further all
stopped, holding my breath, and watched the picture: next to
a man runs as the trolleybus pulls away and hits the sticking out
muzzle. Inside the trolleybus I run to the driver with obscenities so that he
opened the door. But I was a little late: the driver, staring at
what was happening in the rearview mirror, carefully drove into a pole.
######
This story happened the summer before last, so for the details
I can't guarantee it. My friends gathered at the house of one friend again
one sad reason, but we won’t talk about that. Everything went like
usually: got together - drank, smoked - drank, talked -
drank. Somewhere around midnight the vodka ran out, and one more
a belated friend called and said, “Meet me at the metro.” Yes
how long - feet in hand and a noisy, not entirely sober crowd went
six (if I'm not lying) of my friends to the subway for vodka and
missing friend. Among the marchers there were two girls.
I’ll explain right away, my friends, as well as me,then there were still
students of MEPhI, a technical university, there are few girls studying there and
My friends have a reverent attitude towards them.
Next. We got to the metro, bought vodka, met a friend and turned
back. We loaded into the elevator, pressed button "1b", and arrived
respectively to the 1b floor, but the doors did not open. My friends -
physicists - struggled with the doors for a long time, called the dispatcher,
they opened it themselves, again called for help, now their neighbors -
nothing helps. And time passes, and the elevator hangs over the 16th floor
an abyss. Some are panicking. There is less and less air. And drunk
before this there was quite a bit - I needed to go to the toilet. I want to smoke... U
someone was having a drunken hysteria - they uncorked vodka and started smoking...
In the end, they opened the doors a little - a gap for air. And in
I want to go to the toilet, but there are ladies in the elevator... They began to relieve themselves
into the slot, after inserting a bottle into it - so as not to pinch
why... One guy - his name is Max - endured it, was embarrassed when
ladies... So they sat for seven (7!) hours in the elevator. Running out
the seventh hour (denouement!!!) this same Max can’t stand it
(a living person!), girls, turn away, Max is pissing in the treasured
lye, the stream correctly hits somewhere, the contacts close,
the elevator doors opened............. There were many applause and flowers
after. In the first second everyone said: “What did you do earlier?
endured..."Now everyone calls Max “Max - Golden Jet”.
######
Hi All! Two incidents that occurred almost simultaneously on
Easter 199b, the life of the creative
intelligentsia of Kyiv - if you can die of laughter, then it is
then we had our best chance. My sister's husband nags
violin at the National Opera. Despite the loud name
this institution, the problem with paying salaries there is very
acutely, and almost all musicians are looking for some additional
earnings. For the most part they are divided into those who play
in the evenings in restaurants for bandits and those who are members of
so-called "orchestra of zhmyrov" - that is, plays at funerals (
mostly the same bandits). Everyone's job is work, but
they get drunk on it in no time. Just before Easter
they buried one cadre who lived in one of the "dormitories"
districts" - in a 16-story building, and on the 12th floor. When already
inconsolable relatives and friends gathered in full force,
a bus arrived and wreaths with ribbons were already decorated
steps of the entrance, when the musicians had already taken their instruments
ready", at the very last moment arose
small technical hitch. The fact is that the deceased wasa very tall man - about 2 meters, the coffin was, of course, still
more, the freight elevator turned out to be broken, and the passenger
the coffin, even if placed “on its butt,” would not fit in any
case. There's a long "commercial break" - people don't know
what to do, the widow is nervous, the search took a long time
elevator operator, but this did not lead to anything, since it turned out that
The elevator is broken very seriously and for a long time. Relatives are okay -
where will they go, they will be patient, but the musicians have time
limited, so as a consolation they were given some
amount of alcohol from the funeral supply, and, having retired to
the nearest public garden, they tried to brighten up their hours
agonizing wait. Meanwhile, the funeral organizing committee
feverishly discussed what to do. You can't carry the coffin down the stairs,
since the staircases of multi-storey buildings, as is known, are not
are designed for npohocob coffins, not to mention that
you need at least six people to carry it, and even turn around
with him on the platforms. From the bizarre thought of lowering the coffin
ropes from the window also had to be abandoned - firstly, where
get ropes of this length, secondly_well, how would you
explain_just imagine that you went out onto the balcony, let’s say
hang up the laundry, and then past you, swaying rhythmically on the ropes,
floats bycoffin_ In general, considering that it’s already time to delay further
impossible, they made the only right decision - to take the deceased under
handles and go down with him in the elevator. It's easy to say, but that's it
among relatives and friends volunteers for the role of sponsor
not found. On the other hand, do not attract outsiders
I would like not to give rise to unnecessary conversations. In a word, not
found nothing better than to contact opkectpahtam, who
quietly enjoying life, sitting under the children's mushrooms.
Although, as you know, musicians are the most cynical people, but after hearing
Even they were somewhat taken aback by such a request. The conductor is frivolous
proposed to entrust this mission to the main heir
will, but the joke was not successful. In general, trombonist Roma,
being the most desperate (or the most drunk), he took pity on the poor
people and for some modest compensation agreed
will go down with the fat in the elevator, while the empty coffin will be carried away
walk up the stairs. Musician friends helping them boot into
elevator, they also chuckled that it would be fun,
if on any of the lower floors the elevator stops at
"add up"_ Roma was also quite cheerful and cheerful as best he could.
Business for three minutes. Naturally, I got stuck and sat in the elevator
an hour and a half. He was not very bored in the company of the dead man.
Moreover,in order to prevent the fall of the numb
corpse, he had to be gently hugged around the waist all the time. "I
loved him as if he were his own,” says Roma during the long winter
evenings over a glass of beer_Now imagine: a) the state of Roma,
which, tightly stuck between the eighth and seventh floors, the first
for twenty minutes the beluga roared, pounded on the door and called for
help, then became weak and resigned to fate. When he was released,
he was in a state close to catalepsy. Before his eyes
there were tears. If this whole nightmare lasted at least five more minutes, they
would have received a second corpse, ready for burial (in a tailcoat and with
butterfly). b) - the state of relatives, widows and numerous
crowds of curious people, greedy for entertainment - be it a wedding or
funeral. After half an hour of waiting hanpachoro at the entrance (ah,
how they still wanted to settle everything quietly and unnoticeably),
the confused coffin-bearers went out into the street with the EMPTY coffin and
gave in to panic. Determine where exactly the elevator is located
precious cargo, find someone who can fix the elevator and
to lower it down - all this took a lot of time. To hush up
scandal and heal from mental trauma, generous amounts were poured into Roma
portion of fuel. The effect exceeded all expectations. He not only
said that he has no complaints, but is also ready to honestly
fulfill yourduties of a trombonist. Oh, why are they crazy?
didn't send him home_.Probably those were the strangest
funerals throughout world history. Imagine a funeral
a procession where inconsolable relatives walk, covering their faces
handkerchiefs and choking on silent laughter, opkectpahtob, which
barely restraining themselves from throwing the tools and falling on
the ground in a hysterical fit, but still somehow trying to play
"Funeral March" by Chopin_ A special charm to the work of the great
the Polish composer was given the fact that the trombonist was lagging behind
exactly two measures from the rest of the orchestra, which brought
the hackneyed hit is completely new, simply avant-garde
shade. Still, at the very least they managed to restrain themselves until
On the cemetery road they did not meet a wizened old woman,
who, wiping away tears with the tip of a handkerchief, said to the rattling
voice: "Boys, you are so great rpaete_" After that, in the composition
of the orchestra there were only violinists left, who were hysterical
cackling still did not interfere with reproducing some semblance
sounds - unlike wind instruments. The conductor silently shuddered in
convulsions. During the funeral service, Roma, being already completely
insane, slipped and fell into a nearby hole dug for
someone else's dead man. Humble selfless heart_Without
opportunity to get outhe still did not want to violate
the solemnity of the moment, and so as not to let down my comrades,
continued to play his part. Gradually all the instruments one by one
others fell silent in confusion. The situation according to Hoffmann's taste -
There is no trombonist, but the trombone is playing, and its sound is clearly
sepulchral_Crowded around the pit, where crouched at the bottom,
hearing nothing, not seeing anything, and hardly anything anymore
thinking, Roma continued to enthusiastically study trombonism,
shameless cynics announced the abode of sadness with friendly, invigorating
laughter, from which the unfortunate, forgotten dead man,
He must have turned over in his grave.
######
Quite recently there was such a thing... One night I was woken up
a friend fidgeting in bed. Woke up, I asked: “Ah! Katya,
My RABBIT, can’t sleep?” After a second I realized her name was
not Katya... but at the same time I learned how rabbits really scream...
P.S. The excuse that my cat’s name was Katya was not scanned. Rabbits don't
They only know how to yell obscenities, but they don’t believe in fairy tales either.
######
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