myplaceinlife

- Здравствуйте, Вы знаете?
- А шо?
- У Вас приятная улыбка:
- И шо?
- Нет, просто так: У Вас приятная улыбка, и все!
- Не морочьте мне голову! Шо Вы хотели?
- Да ничего не хотел! У Вас приятная улыбка, и мне захотелось Вам об этом сказать.
- И шо теперь? Вы хотите со мной переспать?
- Да упаси Господи! В смысле, я не это хотел сказать.
- А шо Вы хотели сказать?
- Я хотел сказать... Тьфу ты, черт!
- Хто - я?!
- Да не Вы! В общем, мне Ваша улыбка показалось приятной, и я решил...
- Ах, ты решил! А шо я решила, это уже не важно?
- Да послушайте...
- Ничего я не желаю слушать. Я иду, никого не трогаю, а тут подходит какое-то чмо и начинает меня домогаться!
- Да никого я не домогался!
- Ах, он еще и не домогался! Это не мужики пошли, а какие-то сопли в штанах...
- Слушай, ты!...
- Ого! Начинается!
- Ничего не начинается! Все уже закончилось!
- Шо - закончилось?
- Пошла к чертовой матери! Дура!
- Я!? Подождите, а шо Вы, собственно, хотели?
- За жопу тебя взять!
- Меня?!
- Нет, себя!
- Ну, ладно... А шо ж Вы сразу с грубостей начинаете?
- А как с тобой иначе?! С идиоткой такой!
- Подождите, подождите: Вы познакомиться со мной хотите?!
- Хотел, блин?!
- А теперь - шо?
- Теперь - расхотел!
- А почему - расхотели?
- Потому что ты - дура!
- И все?! Неужто из-за таких пустяков мы теперь не познакомимся?
- Нет!
- А может?...
- Ну, не знаю...
- Давайте попробуем, все-таки!
- Ну, ладно. Так шо я должен сказать?
- Приятное шо-нибудь...
- Ну, попробую... Вы знаете, у Вас приятная улыбка!
- И шо?...

Однажды Бах спросил свою подругу:
«Скажите мне, вы любите ли фугу?»

Смутясь и покраснев, как мак,
Подруга отвечала так:
«Не ожидала я увидеть в вас нахала.
Прошу вас, не теряйте головы.
Я — девушка и в жизни не видала
Того, что здесь назвали вы».

Мораль: у девушек, почти без исключенья
Богатое воображенье.

- Николай Эрдман

Мы обновляем быт
И все его детали...
Рояль был весь раскрыт
И струны в нем дрожали.

— Чего дрожите вы? — спросили у страдальцев
Игравшие сонату десять пальцев.

— Нам нестерпим такой режим —
Вы бьете нас,
и мы дрожим!..

Но им ответствовали руки,
Ударивши по клавишам опять:
— Когда вас бьют, вы издаете звуки,
А если вас не бить, вы будете молчать.

Смысл этой краткой басни ясен:
Когда б не били нас, мы б не писали басен.

- Николай Эрдман

http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/europe/8008572.stm

The Everything Guide to Brighton Beach Inside the land of pelmeni, matryoshkas, tracksuits, and of course, vodka. On the boardwalk in front of Volna. (Photo: Monica Ruzansky) The biggest mistake one can make upon exiting the B at the last stop, inhaling undertow-flavored air and narrowly passing a man in a fake Gucci shirt and a rabbit hat hawking caviar from a foldable outdoor table, is to assume that you’re seeing a passable facsimile of Russia. Brighton Beach is far more interesting. What you’re actually getting is a kind of double-blind guess— a Jewish immigrant’s idea of what an American’s idea of Russia may be. And that’s what makes it arguably the most fascinating ethnic enclave in New York: It looks just as exotic to the ethnicity it enclaves. Like its freak cousin Coney Island, the neighborhood known as Little Odessa is as much a state of mind as a location: stuck between two worlds, with its own culture, slang, radio, TV, magazines, and illicit pharmaceutical industry (think less meth and more FDA-unapproved heart drops). It’s too singular and ornery to be a true tourist trap. Unlike Little Italy, with its defanged Mafia lore, Brighton Beach frowns at suggestions the “Russian mob” has ever even existed; its secrets are still secrets, and its past is never far away. The present population is simply the latest wave of Jewish immigrants to have settled it. The first batch were European war survivors who came in the late forties and early fifties, establishing beachheads such as Diamond’s clothing store (owned, yes, by Neil Diamond’s parents). The neighborhood fell into disrepair by the seventies, just before the second wave of Jewish arrivals—this time Russian-speaking. There was a rough period of all-out turf war when chain-wielding Russians with little to lose paired up with Meir Kahane’s Jewish Defense League to police the streets, displacing many black and Latino locals in the process. Then the enclave settled into its present state: a quick and dirty mock-up of capitalist paradise just 40 minutes from the real thing, and a nostalgic fantasy of the country left behind. The latest mass influx of Russians, this one not as uniformly Jewish, happened in the nineties, after the dissolution of the U.S.S.R.; earlier settlers, proud of their dissident credentials, haughtily called the supposedly venal newbies kolbasnaya immigraciya (literally “sausage immigration”) until the two groups happily blended over a shared love of kolbasa. Right now on Brighton Beach Avenue, the neighborhood’s trestle-shaded thoroughfare, you’re equally likely to bump into the aging eighties arrivals who’ve never left their apartments or upgraded to the pink Oceana complex right nearby; their designer-clad kids jabbering in an amazing mix of gutter Russian, Brooklynese, and teen uptalk; Dominicans and Puerto Ricans making inroads back into the area; Manhattan hipsters out for an ironic evening of vodka and chintzy stage shows at Rasputin or the National; and half-repulsed, half-misty-eyed Russo-Americans like yours truly who have moved on geographically but are still reeled back in from time to time by the siren call of thick ice cream, a dubious DVD, and a jar of really good pickles. Once the weather tops 70 degrees, the hardy locals will be quick to fill the beach with nightmare-inducing geriatric Speedo displays and drained bottles of Baltika beer. Visit right now, though, and you’ll still find the sand strip romantically empty and the avenue life at a perfect low simmer. The long-dueling ocean-view restaurants, Volna and Tatiana, are still trying to get the customers in. And there’s still a good chance you’ll be able to stroll the springy boardwalk at sunset with nothing between you and the Atlantic except diffused light, an ocean breeze, and a vodka buzz.

http://www.cheapshooter.com/2008/08/07/canon-loyalty-program-offers-little-known-deal/

"There are three possible parts to a date, of which at least two must be offered: entertainment, food, and affection. It is customary to begin a series of dates with a great deal of entertainment, a moderate amount of food, and the merest suggestion of effection. As the amount of affection increases, the entertainment can be reduced proportionately. When the affection IS the entertainment, we no longer call it dating. Under no circumstances can the food be omitted."

This is a letter recently received by the Virgin Atlantic customer complaints team and is currently being hailed on news blogs, such as this one on The Telegraph as possibly the funniest customer complaint letter ever.
We called the Virgin Atlantic press office and they confirmed they received the letter and that Richard Branson himself called the author to thank him for the feedback.
Here's the letter.

http://uk.news.yahoo.com/blog/editors_corner/article/11975/

Enjoy :)

Fifty People, One Question: London from Crush + Lovely on Vimeo.

http://www.liveinternet.ru/community/1139931/post84258562/

Elena Orlowa — http://www.elenaorlowa.com

CD "Semilla de vid".
Recorded in Canary Islands.
Spanish & Russian Musics Fusion.

Guitar - Charly Daicz (Argentina),
Violoncello - Naomi Barron (Canada),
Violin - Pablo Rodriguez Gonzalez (Spain),
Percussion - Jose Pedro Perez (Spain),
Lyrics & Music - Bulat Okudzhava.

L'Shana Tova y metuka to all!! Let all of us have a peaceful sweet year full of love and laughter..

http://ziza.ru/2008/08/12/tancy_v_gorodskikh_dzhungljakh_46_foto.html

Nu vsyo.. one way ticket on Thursday, the 21st.. NY - here I come :)

ya shas slushau knigu. kniga sama tak sebe, no tam est' takoi interesniy moment. zhenshina kotoraya davno zamuzhem raskazivaet shto ee vnuki smotryat multik. i tam raznie zhivotnie kotorie drug za drugom begaut postoyanno. oni nachinaut bezhat' a potom pol konchaetsya i oni prodolzhaut bezhat' po vozduhu. i padaut tolko togda kogda vidyat kogda smotryat vniz i vidyat shto pola net. i tak zhe ee 40 let s muzhem. ih otnosheniya prekrasny. glavnoe ne smotret' vniz.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ESkrwM64ejY

!!

Представители правоохранительных органов Нью-Йорка сообщили, что четверо подростков были арестованы по обвинению в преступлении на почве ксенофобии.

Подростки забросали камнями школьный автобус, который осуществлял развозку учеников младшего школьного возраста из еврейской школы.

Инцидент произошел в Бруклине, в квартале Crown Heights. Нападавшие — четырнадцатилетние негры, три девочки и мальчик — выкрикивали оскорбительные эпитеты и вели себя крайне агрессивно...

http://www.mignews.com/news/disasters/world/280608_31333_50088.html

http://scarych.livejournal.com/565536.html?style=mine#cutid1

Commentary by Michael Lewis May 29 (Bloomberg) -- For some months now I've made a point of popping into Bloomberg's offices every now and again to share with readers the secret thoughts of a successful hedge-fund manager. People like me -- that is, people with more than $1 billion under management and in excess of $100 million in net worth -- seldom tell ordinary people what we actually think, for the obvious reason that it doesn't pay. As a result, ordinary people -- defined as anyone with a net worth of less than $10 million -- know very little about the inner lives of the seriously rich, even in places where there are lots of seriously rich people. The uproar in Greenwich, Connecticut, about the rich Russian and his toilets strikes me as an excellent case in point. To recap: In 2005 Valery Kogan, a Russian whom no one outside of Russia had ever heard of, turns up in Greenwich and buys a five- acre lot with a 20,000-square-foot house on it. Naturally -- he being Russian, this being Greenwich -- he expects to tear down this old house and erect his own new 54,000- square-foot place. Like me, Valery Kogan overcame great odds to become a capitalist success. (I went to Penn, for example; Valery was born in a police state, and given a girl's name, to boot.) Having made it this far he clearly never imagined that anyone might try to stop him from going even further. But then he met the organized proletariat of Greenwich. And before he knew it he was all over the American newspapers as the Slavic lout who wanted to build in their suburban idyll a palace with a 12-car garage, a Finnish spa, a dog-grooming salon and 26 toilets. Need Versus Want I would have thought the dog-grooming salon would have caused him his biggest problem with the masses, but it is these toilets that have proven his public-relations nightmare. His desire for a 26-holer is the thing no ordinary person, even in Greenwich, seems capable of understanding. ``Who needs that many toilets?'' one of the protesting nimrods of Greenwich put it to Bloomberg News, speaking for the whole miserable rabble. Well, for a start, Valery Kogan needs 26 toilets. He also needs someone to explain the need. Allow me. ( Read more )

+20° - Greeks put on sweaters (if they can find them).
+15° - Hawaiians turn on the heaters (if they have them).
+10° - Americans shake, Russians are planting cucumbers.
+5° - You can see your own breathing. Italian cars don't start. Norwegians take a bath. Russians drive with lowered windows.
0° - Water freezes in America, in Russia it thickens.
-5° - French cars don't start.
-10° - You're planning a vacation to Australia.
-15° - Your cat insists to sleep in your bed. Norwegians put on sweaters.
-18° - New York landlords turn on the heaters. Russians make their last seasonal picnic.
-20° - American cars don't start. People in Alaska start wearing long-sleeves.
-25° - German cars don't start. Hawaiians are dead.
-30° - Politicians start talking about homeless people. Your cat prefers to sleep in your pajamas.
-35° - Too cold to think. Japanese cars don't start.
-40° - You're planning a 2-week hot tub bath. Swedish cars don't start.
-42° - Transportation stops in Europe. Russians eat ice cream on the street.
-45° - All Greeks are dead. Politicians really start doing something for the homeless.
-50° - Your eyelids start sticking when you blink. In Alaska, people close the window in the bathroom.
-60° - White bears start moving south.
-70° - Hell freezes.
-73° - Finnish special services evacuate Santa Claus from Lapland. Russians wear earmuff hats.
-80° - Lawyers put their hands in their own pockets.
-114° - Ethyl alcohol is freezing. Russians are unhappy.
-273° - Absolute zero, atomic movement stops. Russians wear boots.
-295° - 90% of the planet is dead. Russian soccer team becomes the world champion.

Зачем я уезжаю далеко? Где будет сердцу не легко, Где не услышу я родного слова. И это будет для меня так ново. Зачем нас манит чужеземная краса, Где небоскребы протыкают небеса, Где мир другой,чужие люди Ведь мы там счастливы не будем. На родине слышна родная речь, Здесь будут реки бурно течь И встретят тут меня родные люди И здесь я счастлива не буду? Мне будет не хватать той яркой красоты, На улицах стерильной чистоты И денег будет не хватать. Зато я буду здесь мечтать.

-not mine.

Хочется дурой набитою стать,
Чтоб не уметь ни писать, ни читать,
Чтобы валяться круглые сутки...
Чтобы смеяться на глупые шутки...
Чтобы переться от розовой шмотки,
Чтобы подруги - одни идиотки,
Чтоб в ридикюле духи и жЫвачка,
Чтоб Петросян насмешил до ус ....ки.
Чтобы компьютер - большой калькулятор,
Чтобы с ашипкай писать "гиниратор",
Чтобы Дом2 - "зашибись передача",
Кучу любовников и побогаче.
Чтобы в наушниках - "Шпильки" с Биланом,
Чтобы трусы - только "Дольче Габана",
Чтоб "кибернетика" - страшное слово,
Чтобы "политика - это не клёво".
В общем, хочу быть набитою дурой,
Брать не умом, а лицом и фигурой,
Всё достигать, обнажая коленки..."
Стать бы такой... И убица ап стенку
 

Станешь такой - офигеешь от скуки!
Будут вокруг не подруги, а суки.
Все мужики будут гады и жмоты,
Отдых достанет ну просто до рвоты.
Будут в квартире не стены - застенки.
Будут скучать друг по другу коленки.
Так что ресницами глупо не хлопай.
Взгляд в монитор и работай-работай!

http://ulitza.livejournal.com/89236.html?mode=reply 

A friend of mine's thoughts on Israel turning 60...and as a response to : http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20080506/ap_on_re_mi_ea/israel_turns60

Life might not be easy, but it's a hell of a lot better than in 1947. The times were harder and yeah - the heros were greater.
But they were heros because of the great strides they made. You can't always be moving in leaps.
Sometimes as a society u slow ur growth. Now the problems are less external and more internal as Israels strengh increased...
I'd rather deal with a shitty PM than worry my whole family and villiage will be slaughtered cause im Jewish.

Ochen' ochen' poradovalo :)) Nadeus' vas tozhe :)
Osobenno nravyatsya deti blizhe k kontsu

http://users.livejournal.com/_bees_/52585.html#cutid1

"Everything will be okay in the end.
If it's not okay, it's not the end."

Really - the world is definitely not headed in the right direction if this happens..

"Mariah Carey surpasses Elvis in No. 1s
‘Touch My Body’ tops Billboard Hot 100; singer sets her sights on Beatles"


http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/23918924/

Три вещи никогда не возвращаются обратно...
Время
Слово
Возможность

Три вещи никогда не следует терять...
Спокойствие
Надежду
Честь.

Три вещи в жизни наиболее ценны...
Любовь
Убеждения
Дружба.

Три вещи в жизни никогда не надежны...
Мечты
Удачa
Состояние.

Три вещи определяют человека...
Труд
Честность
Достижения.

Три вещи разрушают человека...
Вино
Гордыня
Злость.

hehehe



via reytsman

http://www.dotsub.com/films/moredemands/index.php?autostart=true&language_setting=en_1618

Honestly, what is the world coming to?
Philip Kirkorov's concert is taking place at the Kodak Theater in Los Angeles. You know - the one where the OSCARS ARE EVERY YEAR???