StaWle Zosimov Wisewordski

Notes of a Russian homeless. Humorous stories


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protruding ribs of the eighteenth-century forging lattice. Firefighters were called, more precisely, fighters with fire, and firefighters are those who set fire to it. Unfortunately, the Ministry of Emergencies was not yet invented. Those asked him:

      – — What are you stuck with?

      – — Pubic and eggs!! he replied with tears in his eyes. He was also saved and sent to clean the outhouse, which was without windows. On the contrary, I went into denial, saying that I would end my life if they continue to violate my constitutional rights and force me to clean their shit in the outhouse. They laughed at the Constitution and replaced my punishment by beating me in the kidneys, after which I began to piss at night, in the beginning with blood and then soda. But the toilet did not wash!! And I, in an hour, plowed the expanses of the night Nevsky Prospect, in search of life…

      4 note

      Methodius

      The fate brought me temporarily to the city a hero. St. Petersburg, in a charity hostel, simply called in the people as a homeless person. They gave me a shkonar, that is, a bed, which I beat off for half a month from local drunks-authorities, putting fifteen in the hospital before they left me. Trophies were mattresses. I have accumulated nine of them. I stacked them one on top of the other and slept almost at the ceiling. There were some inconveniences: flattery was very perpendicular, and I leaned on a wooden staircase. Life took its normal course: Morning – evening, lunch – toilet, and so on every day. They paid me and my comrade cormorant Lyokha Lysy, who had completed two higher education in the zone for fifteen years, for the calm state of our second floor. He did not differ in sight and had his eighteen in the red in his words. And since it was difficult to get glasses with such eyepieces, he folded from the available, by adding, three frames with glasses and connected them with a copper wire. So he achieved one hundred percent vision. And I began to dignify him with a joke of eight eyes. We lived with him in a family, as in the zone, in short, we had roots and shared bread by baking, however, for some reason he gave me a larger piece, either respected me or fed me for hungry siege times to extend my life by absorption my flesh. Every morning I, waking up, found on my table provisions for the whole day or more. Old people and inhabitants of other ages, all practically sitting in places not so distant and not too short: the smallest was about fifteen years old, voluntarily shared with us their rations, acquired in different ways of small thefts and handouts of richer sections of the population, the so-called home. I was always opposed and returned this back, and so they paid tribute when I was sleeping. The bald one was glad of this attention and also began to eat fat.

      One frosty morning I woke up. Snow was falling outside the window. To get up as usual was laziness, and there were no plans to purchase money, especially since yesterday, and my head stopped. The bald man, as usual, read something in his mind, moving only with his lower lip. And all this would have continued, if not for the appearance of the old seventy-year-old cormorant-recidivist, a sailor, long-distance sailor, pensioner and homeless Methodius with Finnish roots. I want to note that convicts usually communicate with castes, as in this case. And he spoke more with a Caucasian than with a Finnish accent.

      – — Well, parasites, we have a gasp? he began from the shoulder. I turned around, Bald let the book down. A minute passed.

      – — What do you need, old? – asked Bald and buried himself in a novel.

      – — Stop looking at the dossier, take the goldfinches, that is, me, and go plump. For four years I received a pension.

      After his words, about two minutes passed and fresh snow was crunching under our feet. In the distance, there was a store with a slumber of some kind of Georgian. We went into it and ordered two hundred. In smeared and toast Methodius:

      – — Tatars do not live without a couple! – we ordered another hundred. Next, after the old toast:

      – — God love the trinity! – we drained these glasses too. Then we talked in silence, each with himself and only Methodius did not fall silent and told himself how the first term was received from the five available. We were not free listeners.

      – — Our ship came with Kyuubi. I went to my brother’s village. We drank for a week. So in the morning we got together to the housekeeper, after the denatured substance and went past the house where the wedding was. I congratulated them, and they sent me three letters… I looked around and saw a pile of bricks behind me, while my brother went for moonshine and an ax, I took all the stones in the hut, there were a wound, yes, the bride was directly in the forehead. After, he began shelling the windows. The pile didn’t have time to end when I was already put in prison for three years. What else will you drink? – he finished and went to the bar counter of consumer goods.

      We drank a lot and for a long time, even had a snack. In the evening, Lysy’s roof was torn down and he began to run into others. I looked at this bespontovoe lesson and led the drunk sidekick to the hut. And Methodius at that time, having received from Lysy, by chance or not, under his eye, was dozing on the table, standing on the floor.

      In the morning I was awakened by a dull sound and a frenzied riot of Bald. It turned out that when he was sleeping, an enraged Methodius flew into the room with a limp and hit a sleeping Lyokha with a crutch directly on his forehead. He jumped up on the bed and fell to the floor, got up with a mat and pounced on the old one. Then I remember through a nap, there was a fight, until they were separated. It turned out that when I took Lysy away from the tavern, the drunk Methodius lost consciousness. He was thrown out culturally on the street before closing, and he crawled home, relying on his instinct.

      – — You threw me, Bald!! – Barked like a gramophone and ceasing to burr and lisp, grandfather, already lying on the floor, his back down.

      – -How? – asked, gripping Methodius’ throat and sitting like a pig, Bald with his bones of his hands.

      At that time, the old cormorant, trying to crawl out from under the middle-aged cormorant, unscrewed his left ear and squeezed a plum out of his nose. The bald man answered without releasing his hands, blowing him head on head.

      – — Good, in kind. – I tried to calm their young cormorant, I mean. – Hey, homeless people, waste them on the beds. Tell me, Methodius, what started to buzz?

      – -I AM!! – not letting go of Bald, the grandfather began to justify. – I sleep, in kind, I feel someone pokes wit, I open my eyes – snow. I moved and started to get up. I turn around, and in front of me there is an aunt and a tram, ten centimeters from me. The night is cold, with a hangover, and also Lysy, the cattle, threw it, ah!! Yay!! Yay!! – three times exclaimed Methodius.

      – — Yep!! Yep!! Yep!! – Three times Lysy hit him in the eye.

      After half an hour, we already ordered two hundred grams and were going to justify our misunderstandings. And so a whole month, while Methodius did not become impoverished. The good thing is a bank card. Economically…

      5 note

      Yellow snow

      – -It was, in those without a legal times when the tundra was human. Raise armpit tundra-human, half day, lower the armpit tundra-man, half night. And lived on it cooties. And you look one hundred percent vision, it was not cooties, and mammoths, polar bears, reindeer at the end and a pig. And called the Chukchi then all the people, as they were the only species living in the tundra. Comes as a tundra-man with raised arm and scratching it, and Chukchi yarangas are going through a terrible storm. Stopped scratching tundra-the man in the armpit, and the storm subsided. And came Chukchi from their homes in the tundra and immediately thanked him for the pure white snow with his yellow pee. The tundra was similar to the lack of vitamin in the body, as body acne. And all this appeared and everyone started to dance, but quietly yellow icicles began to disappear, someone stole them and left the holes. And then, ' continued the story of the local Chukchi-homeless Seryozha, whom everyone called “yellow