Based on the Ukrainian media and the national liberal press
- Gentlemen! Citizens! Comrades! Tell God for the sake of the representative of the creative intelligentsia, who was beaten down by Putin's tyranny, how to get to Ukraine to earn money? .. Or to Georgia ... There is no longer any power to endure ...
Recently, I took away the last coupons for vodka for the fact that, due to my illness, I did not go to voluntary-compulsory work on the improvement of anti-tank ditches around Moscow. I had to exchange some nonfreezables for Internet tickets. I don’t need them anyway, since in Moscow electricity remained only in the Kremlin and at sites of great strategic importance. Successfully changed. Even for two birch logs for the stove was enough ...
I sit on the bench near the Bolshoi Theater, in the hands of the agenda, I indulge in the latest glassmaking, and past the endless string of sadly wounded, killed and just ripped apart Pskov paratroopers wander. A familiar sight for Russians lately ... Again, from under the Yasinovatskaya denouement, probably ... Kiev railway station is filled with platforms with burnt Armat cores and black sea submarines that have been torn up by rusty tins, and in the direction of Ukraine, the echelon after echelon is driven by military drills squadrons of the Altai Marine Corps.
Permanent fights in endless queues at grocery ration cards for merchandise cards, commandant patrols snooping around the gateways, with enviable regularity catching overlooked potential recruits, and systematic raids forcing the population to rally in support of the ruling regime ... And try to refuse ... in recruits - in the Donbass or, God forbid, in Syria, where, as the Echo of Moscow tears out tears, half a year ago all the Russian group was cut out by the root of the bogey ...
And what was the other day! We sit with a neighbor in the kitchen, do not touch anyone, we quit slowly and completely whispered the song of Makarevich “Do not bend over a changing world” ... And suddenly! The crackle of a broken door, the clink of glass, splinters of an embossed frame ... A bright flash and a suffocating smoke of a noisy grenade ... A wild cry: "Lie down, be afraid! Everybody hits the floor!", And from all the cracks climbed in the special police squad capture gru. Probably, by tapping worked ...
They tied us, poor fellows of the miserable, healed us a little bit liverly and affectionately, but in a very categorical form, they explained that from now on, for propaganda of anti-Russian and illegal agitation for the enemy of the people Andryush Makarevich, we are Putin’s “official slaves” and we must atone for our own blood with the blood - either in the infantry in Syria, either by the driver of the wheelbarrow or by the operator of the pick on one of Putin’s mines for growing nuclear warheads ...
What the hell is Syria! I have a flat foot since childhood! Yes, and it is inconvenient somehow before the Ukrainians - to dab their sisterhood ... I agreed to the quarries ... I immediately, with witnesses and witnesses, wrote the agenda and left. Has passed ... It could be worse ...
All night he prayed for portraits of Kasyanov and Akhedzhakova. Great people, they have done so much for Russia ... I sit, read the agenda, weep ... Choking on tears, I finished the last canine leg ... I solve the eternal question of the Russian liberal intelligentsia: "What should I do?"
By the edge of my ear, by word of mouth, I heard that the most ingenious commander of independent power, Semyon Semenchenko, had already taken Rostov ... He was coming to Voronezh ... If I live, I’ll meet in embroidery ...
PART TWO. ON URANIUM MINES
- Wow, Leva! What are you so bred? They clean it up, you bastards ... So what, that the moss on the market went up in price ... Well, just think, the neighbors ate their neighbors ... If you saw something, then keep quiet. What are you, Koschey Immortal? Or do you have two heads?
Why bother? I have a case for you. Urgent When will the satraps rest on your quarry? How to get free, throw a pick and go to the ravine. Remember where we last week with three runaway Yakuts a dead horse was eating? We’ll spoil baked hedgehogs, wipers with a bahn on a scale (I otarovarit coupons to him yesterday), but let's talk about our mournful affairs ... In short, the mood is not childish ... I have a reason today. Shy ...
The other day I got a job in Putin’s mines as a wheelbarrow operator. To that mine, where Shoigu himself recently cleaned, remember? So, there, after the last shootings, some vacancies were formed ... Count up, lucky! Now I will receive rations of cereals. And on Sundays, even on the bank, sprat promise! I will reptile, I'm not lying! At least some stability. I’ve become old, to collect bumps and moss in the taiga, and the Russian people have almost completely destroyed the hedgehog. And what are people thinking about? What then will eat something?
And the Yakuts, Lyova, those already there ... Two of the chairman of the NKVDshnikam passed. As soon as they were tied, they were immediately sentenced by the “court of the three” to the village council ... and they were sentenced ... They were hanged, ill, at the headquarters. On the Christmas trees. And the third in the marshes directly ran into a commandant patrol. He was shot at the commandant's office. Like a Chinese spy. Yes, it is understandable ... He also had no registration for more than a year .. At the same time, we will remember the poor fellows of these sinners ...
You only crawl up to the ravine from the north, and then from the south you can run into the raids of the Buryat diving-armored cavalry. From the east, at the lake, watchmen of mountain rifle Tuva submariners and Chukchi shamans-snipers are guarding the governor’s oil rig. Beasts. Shoot without warning. And, for God's sake, be careful ... you are still needed by me alive - the “non-freeze” is waiting, and the hedgehogs are already completely cold ... Hurry up ... Respect the old man ... Maybe we'll see you for the last time, brother. .. Lord, how terrible it is to live in Mother Russia!
Something like this ... inspired by ...
Recently, I took away the last coupons for vodka for the fact that, due to my illness, I did not go to voluntary-compulsory work on the improvement of anti-tank ditches around Moscow. I had to exchange some nonfreezables for Internet tickets. I don’t need them anyway, since in Moscow electricity remained only in the Kremlin and at sites of great strategic importance. Successfully changed. Even for two birch logs for the stove was enough ...
I sit on the bench near the Bolshoi Theater, in the hands of the agenda, I indulge in the latest glassmaking, and past the endless string of sadly wounded, killed and just ripped apart Pskov paratroopers wander. A familiar sight for Russians lately ... Again, from under the Yasinovatskaya denouement, probably ... Kiev railway station is filled with platforms with burnt Armat cores and black sea submarines that have been torn up by rusty tins, and in the direction of Ukraine, the echelon after echelon is driven by military drills squadrons of the Altai Marine Corps.
Permanent fights in endless queues at grocery ration cards for merchandise cards, commandant patrols snooping around the gateways, with enviable regularity catching overlooked potential recruits, and systematic raids forcing the population to rally in support of the ruling regime ... And try to refuse ... in recruits - in the Donbass or, God forbid, in Syria, where, as the Echo of Moscow tears out tears, half a year ago all the Russian group was cut out by the root of the bogey ...
And what was the other day! We sit with a neighbor in the kitchen, do not touch anyone, we quit slowly and completely whispered the song of Makarevich “Do not bend over a changing world” ... And suddenly! The crackle of a broken door, the clink of glass, splinters of an embossed frame ... A bright flash and a suffocating smoke of a noisy grenade ... A wild cry: "Lie down, be afraid! Everybody hits the floor!", And from all the cracks climbed in the special police squad capture gru. Probably, by tapping worked ...
They tied us, poor fellows of the miserable, healed us a little bit liverly and affectionately, but in a very categorical form, they explained that from now on, for propaganda of anti-Russian and illegal agitation for the enemy of the people Andryush Makarevich, we are Putin’s “official slaves” and we must atone for our own blood with the blood - either in the infantry in Syria, either by the driver of the wheelbarrow or by the operator of the pick on one of Putin’s mines for growing nuclear warheads ...
What the hell is Syria! I have a flat foot since childhood! Yes, and it is inconvenient somehow before the Ukrainians - to dab their sisterhood ... I agreed to the quarries ... I immediately, with witnesses and witnesses, wrote the agenda and left. Has passed ... It could be worse ...
All night he prayed for portraits of Kasyanov and Akhedzhakova. Great people, they have done so much for Russia ... I sit, read the agenda, weep ... Choking on tears, I finished the last canine leg ... I solve the eternal question of the Russian liberal intelligentsia: "What should I do?"
By the edge of my ear, by word of mouth, I heard that the most ingenious commander of independent power, Semyon Semenchenko, had already taken Rostov ... He was coming to Voronezh ... If I live, I’ll meet in embroidery ...
PART TWO. ON URANIUM MINES
- Wow, Leva! What are you so bred? They clean it up, you bastards ... So what, that the moss on the market went up in price ... Well, just think, the neighbors ate their neighbors ... If you saw something, then keep quiet. What are you, Koschey Immortal? Or do you have two heads?
Why bother? I have a case for you. Urgent When will the satraps rest on your quarry? How to get free, throw a pick and go to the ravine. Remember where we last week with three runaway Yakuts a dead horse was eating? We’ll spoil baked hedgehogs, wipers with a bahn on a scale (I otarovarit coupons to him yesterday), but let's talk about our mournful affairs ... In short, the mood is not childish ... I have a reason today. Shy ...
The other day I got a job in Putin’s mines as a wheelbarrow operator. To that mine, where Shoigu himself recently cleaned, remember? So, there, after the last shootings, some vacancies were formed ... Count up, lucky! Now I will receive rations of cereals. And on Sundays, even on the bank, sprat promise! I will reptile, I'm not lying! At least some stability. I’ve become old, to collect bumps and moss in the taiga, and the Russian people have almost completely destroyed the hedgehog. And what are people thinking about? What then will eat something?
And the Yakuts, Lyova, those already there ... Two of the chairman of the NKVDshnikam passed. As soon as they were tied, they were immediately sentenced by the “court of the three” to the village council ... and they were sentenced ... They were hanged, ill, at the headquarters. On the Christmas trees. And the third in the marshes directly ran into a commandant patrol. He was shot at the commandant's office. Like a Chinese spy. Yes, it is understandable ... He also had no registration for more than a year .. At the same time, we will remember the poor fellows of these sinners ...
You only crawl up to the ravine from the north, and then from the south you can run into the raids of the Buryat diving-armored cavalry. From the east, at the lake, watchmen of mountain rifle Tuva submariners and Chukchi shamans-snipers are guarding the governor’s oil rig. Beasts. Shoot without warning. And, for God's sake, be careful ... you are still needed by me alive - the “non-freeze” is waiting, and the hedgehogs are already completely cold ... Hurry up ... Respect the old man ... Maybe we'll see you for the last time, brother. .. Lord, how terrible it is to live in Mother Russia!
Something like this ... inspired by ...
Information