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Entertainment / Humor

Story #2 for January 04, 2021

A dozen new stories. Anecdotes from Russia. 03.01.2021 at 21:00

Jokes from Russia - the most funny jokes, stories, sayings and phrases, poems, cartoons, and other humor. Go from 8 November 1995. Compiler Dima Verner

This could be called a discovery, if not for a series of preliminary coincidences of circumstances. I even wanted to write a scientific work: "How to cure alcoholism with alcohol". But then I changed my mind, although I will share it with you. And it all started with a berry that grows in certain areas of the Far East. It is called scientifically krasnika, and in the common people klopovka. Most likely for the specific smell released by it during collection, when climbing on moss hummocks, the collector accidentally crushes it with his knees and other parts of the body. The crackling and pungent smell gave it this folk name. And nature has given unique therapeutic qualities for lowering blood pressure.

Its preparation was carried out by an organization bearing the proud name "Koopzveropromkhoz", it's like "Horns and Hooves", but more mysterious. For foreigners. After all, the berry was exported.

- Sour, sour! Fermented!!! - the storekeeper who broke into the chairman of the co-op was upset. Either I laid something wrong, or the ambient temperature failed, but 150 barrels of 50 liters each began to ferment.

It was a blow for the chairman. Maybe even below the waist.

- What are you fucking doing there?! "Stop it!" he roared. - It's a currency!!! - In order to avoid a heart attack, he did not even count the losses. Apparently he wanted to live. But as a prudent and economic person, he began to look for a way out, at least for local purposes and in rubles. The word "fermented", prompted him to make something alcoholic out of it, like "Riga balsam", which he shared at the general meeting. The performers took up this offer with enthusiasm. People's money was saved. They fucked sugar into the berry, crushed, sifted, shaken, looked at the light, measured it with an alcohol meter after fermentation. And they gave it to the mountain, not a balm, of course, but a certain wine called "Krasnichka" to preserve belonging to a medicinal berry and hoping to instill the same quality in the wine. The wine was already fermenting in bottles, so the price for it was set at a minimum, just to sell it. An experimental sample, anyway.

And somewhere at the same time, I was doing an audit and accounting at one of the warehouses.

- What the hell is this?! - an abscess in the far corner is a bunch of some suits made of rubberized fabric, I turned to the zavskladsha with interest.

- A chemical protection suit, according to the L-1 documents, "she explained," probably for the war.

I looked more closely. The thing was interesting, the boots were boggy, but not up to the balls, but count to the very shoulders. The same jacket with a hood, ties and elastic bands. In its own way, the thing is unique. That's why I said

- Let's write one to write off, like the rats chewed through, I'll take it fishing!

The campaign of "Krasnichka" in the co-op, and chemical protection in the warehouse entrusted to me, coincided here for the first time. Then there was more, because it was autumn. Chum salmon were spawning on the river, and coop's cars were already delivering krasnichka to the shops. Therefore, when my friends invited me to go fishing, I put this very kit in my backpack and we first rushed to the store to stock up. After all, what kind of fishing without booze. The wine that appeared on the shelves confused us. The price. It cost twenty rubles for half a liter, and this is considered four times cheaper than vodka and four times more. The degrees are certainly less, but we were going to fish, not to drink. So we decided to take it. So the "krasnichka" and the chemical protection kit in my backpack were connected, but not yet completely.

- I will go far from the shore! - I surprised the people after the first one. They accepted my enthusiasm with incomprehension and poured a second one.

-Why is this?

- I want to test one thing, - I said mysteriously and held out a glass for the third. Having unlaced the set, he began to dress, a mysterious and unknown thing for them. I tightened all the straps, checked the elastic bands. On the neck of the jacket, I tightened the belt too much. But fuck knows, I might stumble or be overwhelmed by a wave. And he put on his hood. Everything seemed to be sealed. He stirred and asked, " Well, how is it?"

The people slammed their fallen jaws shut.

- Ichthyander, fuck! - only someone could exhale. They hit another one and I grabbed my end of the delirium, breaking into the water.

I pushed the delirium hard, the second one that was closer to the shore barely kept up with me. After drinking wine, I felt like a seiner. An atomic seiner. But when my stomach rumbled and bubbled, I decided that the failure had caused the reactor to overheat. Observing the safety precautions, I slowly began to vent the gases and turn to the shore. The delirium was full, I was already dragging it with difficulty. The closer the scythe was, the heavier and heavier it became. And the reactor was overheating more and more. The gases were being discharged almost continuously, but the chemical protection suit not only did not allow water to pass through, but also did not allow them to escape, raising the temperature inside to a critical level. So I jumped out on the scythe and pulled the neck strap for fresh air. And I made a mistake with the difference in pressure. The fresh air was thrown off by the accumulated heated gases coming from inside. I couldn't stand such miscalculations. He changed his complexion several times and fell backwards. My friends thought I was having a heart attack. But I'll tell you honestly, there was no smell of heart there. The smell from the not good-natured "Krasnichka" was completely different — not serdeshny!. And he finished me off. Well, someone found a pot and I was poured with water from the river.

So that's what I'm getting at. Yes, to the fact that I stopped drinking alcohol completely after that incident. And what? After all, not only did the sight of red wine make me feel sick and gases accumulated, but even the letter "K", wherever it met. And in vodka, it is also present in cognac, too, but twice. I think that the cooperative industrial farm developed a therapeutic remedy for alcohol at that time. But without my chemical protection kit, it did not work so effectively. My friends also ran around the bushes later, but they found options by pinching their nose with their fingers and sitting facing the wind. Only I was able to create a shock therapeutic concentration. Well, a chemical protection suit.

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